EM 


Mary  J.    L.    Me  Donald 


DAUGHTERS 
OF  THE  RICH 


By  EDGAR  SAL.TUS 

tf 


NEW  YORK 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1909, 
By  Edgar  Saltus 


\  *" 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

A  Novel 
PART  I 
Entr'acte 

I    White  Peacocks 9 

II    The  Inquest 22 

III    The  Clue 39 

PART  II 
The  Daughters 

I    Sally's  Duke 50 

II    A  Little  Token 74 

III  A  Little  Love 89 

IV  A  Little  Frisk 109 

V    The  Villa  Portugaise          .         .         .         .125 

VI     The  Head 138 

VII    The  Door 153 

VIII    The  Duel 166 

IX    The  Race 181 

X     The  Devil 193 

XI  At  the  Sign  of  the  Swan     .        .        .        .203 

PART  III 
Afterward 

I    Perspectives 221 

II     The  Benediction  .  .  245 


98O486 


THE  PEOPLE  IN  IT 

Gerard  Welden,  M.  F.  H.,  An  American  sportsman 
Maud  Barhyte,  a  New  York  girl  of  the  fashionable  set 
Sally  Malakqff,  afterward  Mrs.  Welden 
The  Due  de  Malakoff,  Sally's  first  husband 
Mrs.  Kandy,  Sally's  mother,  a  rich  widow 
General  Barhyte,  Maud's  father,  a  rich  widower 
The  Comte  de  Dol,  a  French  sportsman 
The  Marquis  Aquaviva,  an  Italian  sportsman 
Prince  Kara,  a  Russian  sportsman 
Lord  Ferrers,  an  English  sportsman 
Mull  Cantire,  under-secretary,  British  Embassy,  Paris 
Mme.  Oppensheim,  a  mondaine 
Mme.  de  Cerisy,  another  mondaine 
The  Princesse  de  Solferino,  a  third  mondaine 
Louis  Le  Hillel,  a  swordsman 
Baron  Louradour,  another  swordsman 
Dr.  Binet-  V aimer,  one  of  the  lights  of  French  science 
Society  people,  maitres  d'hotel,  footmen,  chauffeurs, 
trainers,  stable  lads,  surgeons,  lawyers,  a  coroner,  a 
chief  of  police 


Daughters  of  the  Rich 


PART  I 

(Entr'acte) 


WHITE  PEACOCKS 

"Nearly  a  crumpler,"  said  a  fat-faced 
man  to  Welden,  whose  horse,  stumbling  in 
the  main  street  of  Santa  Barbara,  had  al 
most  sat  down. 

Welden,  pulling  him  together,  dismount 
ed.  Supple  and  vigorous,  he  had  an  attract 
ive  face,  laughing  eyes  and  the  air  of  being 
some  one.  Moreover,  if  this  street  in  South 
ern  California  had  been  Rotten  Row,  he 
could  not  have  been  more  studiously  attired. 
His  breeches  were  perfect.  His  boots  had 


10  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

been  marrowboned  into  blonde  mirrors. 
From  one  of  them  he  flicked  a  speck  with 
his  crop. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  the  brute,  Wicks?" 
he  asked.   "And,  by  the  way,  if  you  expect 

.  me  Jq  Jbuy  .him  also,  I  will  chuck  the  whole 
thing.' 

..*• : Wicksv  standing  fat-faced  and  bare-head 
ed  in  the  sunshine,  reddened  with  emotion. 
The  fish  was  landed,  he  told  himself,  and 
none  too  soon. 

Wicks  was  in  real  estate,  with  signs— 
signs  which  described  him  as  the  Alert 
and  Indefatigable  Wicks — strewn  through 
Santa  Barbara,  strewn,  too,  through  the  ad 
jacent  suburbs  of  Montecito  and  Miramar. 
It  had  been  a  bad  year,  however.  Of  nibbles 
there  had  been  few,  of  bites  none  at  all.  In 
stead  of  the  usual  regiment  of  opulent  East 
erners,  so  eager  for  a  residence  in  the  per 
fumery  and  sunshine  of  the  Slope,  that  they 
took  anything  at  any  price,  there  had  been 


WHITE  PEACOCKS  11 

but  a  handful  of  paupers,  considering  penu 
rious  bungalows. 

Wicks,  himself,  had  a  bungalow,  one  un 
fortunately  mortgaged.  Also,  he  had  his 
office  before  which,  fat-faced  and  bare 
headed,  he  stood.  The  rent  was  due  and 
back,  toward  the  Sierra  Madre,  in  that 
bungalow,  was  Mrs.  Wicks,  two  little 
Wickses,  and  a  hired  girl. 

These  luxuries  mean  money,  and  to  Wicks 
money  had  become  a  haunting  and  elusive 
thing.  Then,  suddenly,  by  special  grace,  in 
the  nick  of  time,  just  as  the  grocer  was  turn 
ing  ugly,  Welden,  with  all  the  aroma  of 
wealth  about  him,  had  dropped  from  the 
cars,  demanding  something  fit  and  on  the  sea. 

"Something,"  a  woman  who  accompanied 
this  providence  melodiously  interluded,  "in 
which  one,  if  one  liked,  could  have  a  little 
frisk." 

As  she  spoke  she  had  smiled,  very  infec 
tiously,  for  Welden  smiled  too,  and  Wicks, 


12  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

who  had  not  an  idea  what  a  little  frisk: 
might  be,  unless  their  visit  could  be  so  cata 
logued,  smiled  also.  But  the  woman's  smile 
was  not  merely  infectious,  there  was  in  it 
and  about  her  a  charm  that  was  absolutely 
relaxing.  She  exhaled  ease  and  an  atmos 
phere  indefinably  foreign. 

"Is  she  pretty?"  the  wife  of  Wicks'  bosom 
inquired  that  evening  when,  on  the  porch  of 
the  mortgaged  bungalow,  he  told  her  the 
incidents  of  the  day. 

"Yes,  and  better.    I  should  say  she  was— 
she  was — "    Here  the  Alert  and  Indefatig 
able  groped  mentally  after  a  term  which 
suddenly  he  nailed.    "I  should  say  she  was 
princessly." 

"Princessly!"  Mrs.  Wicks  dubiously  re 
peated.  "How  was  she  dressed?" 

But  the  question  was  beyond  Wicks,  as 
it  is  also  beside  the  issue,  which  was  in  effect 
that  these  luminous  people  had  concluded  to 
consider  White  Peacocks,  a  house  at  Mira- 


WHITE   PEACOCKS  13 

mar,  which  an  Englishman  had  leisurely 
built  and  then,  on  acceding  to  a  title,  had 
actively  vacated,  leaving  it  to  Wicks  to  sell 
for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars.  "Not  a  ha' 
penny  less,"  the  Englishman  had  enjoined, 
"and  more  if  possible."  "Certainly,  my 
lord,"  Wicks  had  replied,  "I  will  try  for  a 
hundred  and  fifty." 

Then,  simultaneously  with  the  English 
man's  departure,  there  had  occurred  in  Wall 
street  a  panic  from  which  germinated  a 
nightmare  that  sullenly  overspread  the  en 
tire  land,  and,  until  Welden  appeared,  no 
one  had  come  that  would  consider  at  any 
price  the  purchase  of  the  property. 

But,  on  the  first  day,  when  in  a  motor, 
hired  by  the  hour,  Wicks  had  taken  the  Wei- 
dens  there,  he  had  felt  that  it  was  probably 
a  go.  At  the  start,  that  is,  once  the  main 
street  of  Santa  Barbara  was  behind  them, 
and  they  were  rolling  along  the  ocean  boule 
vard  which  leads  to  Miramar,  he  had 


14  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

mentioned,  casually,  as  though  it  were  an  un 
important  detail,  the  top  price,  adding  imme 
diately  and  mechanically,  after  a  habit  of  his: 
"And  such  a  bargain!"  Then,  mechanically 
also,  he  had  played  the  flute  to  its  charms. 

White  Peacocks  needed  no  aria  from  him 
It  breathed  for  itself.  The  grounds,  full  of 
palms,  of  lilies,  of  masses  and  draperies  of 
purple  and  scarlet  blooms,  were  like  an  un- 
glassed  conservatory  open  to  the  air.  They 
had  the  sea  before  them,  the  mountains  be 
hind,  and  the  house  with  its  thirty  rooms, 
every  one  of  which  was  scented  the  year 
around  with  geranium,  with  heliotrope  and 
with  brine,  was  agreeably  furnished,  com 
fortably  arranged.  Beyond,  for  servants, 
was  another  house;  a  stable,  a  garage;  and 
in  front  of  the  main  dwelling,  on  a  lawn  of 
vivid  green,  a  dove-coloured  peacock  moved 
gingerly,  almost  moodily,  but,  at  sight  of 
them,  expanded  slowly  yet  demeasurably 
the  fan  of  its  extravagant  tail. 


WHITE   PEACOCKS  15 

It  was  the  finishing  touch. 

Wicks,  conscious  of  the  impression  pro 
duced,  had  been  about  to  play  the  flute 
again,  when  Welden,  who  had  been  talking 
in  French  with  his  wife,  turned  to  him. 

"I  will  try  it  for  a  month;  then,  if  it  still 
pleases  Mrs.  Welden,  I  will  make  an  offer." 

Wicks,  the  Alert,  the  Indefatigable, 
sighed  and  looked  down.  Actually  at  the 
moment  he  was  in  agony.  The  unexpected 
and  magnificent  fish  that  had  so  providen 
tially  come  into  his  net  was  wriggling  unar- 
restably  away.  The  commission  on  a 
month's  rental  was  all  on  which  he  could 
surely  count. 

Conscious,  however,  that  he  must  make 
some  reply,  with  an  effort  he  rallied. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said,  "that  the  owner 
would  care  to  rent  the  property.  But  if 
price  seems — " 

Welden,  standing  there  supple  and  smil 
ing,  cut  him  short. 


16  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"I  never  argue." 

After  all,  Wicks  had  immediately  reflect 
ed,  the  property  was  worth  certainly  a 
thousand  a  month — to  any  one  who  could 
be  induced  to  pay  it.  At  ten  per  cent,  that 
meant  a  hundred  for  him,  with  the  chance 
still  of  the  bigger  commission. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  he  had  replied.  "I  will 
assume  the  responsibility." 

In  this  manner  the  business  had  been  tem 
porarily  concluded.  On  the  premises  was 
a  lame  ostler,  who  was  Irish;  a  minute  gar 
dener,  who  was  Japanese;  a  half-breed  man 
of  all  work  and  an  obese  negro  cook.  These 
the  Weldens  retained,  reinforcing  them 
with  servants  of  their  own  and  with  others 
recruited  from  Los  Angeles — preparations 
which  seemed  to  postulate  permanency  if 
signs  and  portents  might.  But  Wicks 
could  be  sure  of  nothing,  nor  was  he,  until 
this  radiant  forenoon,  when  the  crumpler 
nearly  occurred,  and  Welden,  damning  the 
brute,  dismounted. 


WHITE   PEACOCKS  17 

It  was  then,  reddening  with  emotion,  that 
these  anterior  events  were  recalled,  for  now, 
at  last,  the  fish,  the  magnificent  fish,  was 
landed. 

"No,  certainly  not,  we  won't  burden  you 
with  him,"  he  replied  in  answer  to  Welden's 
protest.  "If  you  will  take  a  seat  in  my  of 
fice  for  a  moment,  I  will  leave  him  at  the 
livery  across  the  way." 

Pleasurably,  a  hand  on  the  bridle,  he  led 
the  horse  off.  The  netting  of  the  fish  meant 
— at  seven  and  a  half  per  cent.,  which  was 
the  commission  agreed — in  the  event  of  the 
top  figure  being  reached — eleven  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars.  It  was  certainly 
a  very  radiant  forenoon. 

Welden,  meanwhile,  flicking  still  at  his 
boots,  strolled  into  the  office  and  sat  down  on 
one  of  the  three  chairs  which  the  place  con 
tained.  On  the  wall  was  a  map.  Beneath 
was  a  pulpit  desk,  high  and  narrow.  On  it 
were  documents,  a  china  cat,  other  things 
as  well,  but  most  noticeably,  a  telephone, 


18  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

which,  as  Welden  seated  himself,  began  ring 
ing. 

Welden,  still  flicking  at  his  boots,  stared 
aimlessly  about.  On  one  of  the  other  chairs 
was  the  local  sheet ;  he  reached  for  it  and  was 
looking  over  the  news  of  the  day  when 
Wicks  reappeared. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  agent,  who  went 
to  the  telephone,  which  had  continued  to 
ring. 

Welden  but  glanced  at  him.  He  had  just 
read  that  the  New  York  Central  had  de 
creased  its  dividend.  The  item  was  of  in 
terest;  he  happened  to  be  a  stockholder  and 
mentally  he  began  on  a  calculation  which 
Wicks,  his  hand  on  the  receiver,  interrupted. 

"It's  for  you.  Your  man,  I  think.  He 
wants  to  speak  to  you." 

Absently  Welden  looked  up.  "Non 
sense,"  he  presently  remarked.  "Harris 
knows  better  than  that.  If  there  is  any  mes 
sage,  though,  tell  them  to  give  it  to  you." 


WHITE  PEACOCKS  19 

Then,  after  fumbling  in  a  pocket,  he  got 
out  a  gold  pencil  with  which  he  jotted  fig 
ures  on  the  margin  of  the  paper  that  he  held. 
But  the  operation  did  not  prevent  him  from 
hearing. 

"Yes,"  Wicks  was  saying.  "Mr.  Wei- 
den  is  here.  Mr.  Welden  says  you  are  to 
tell  me  for  him.  He— What !" 

At  the  "What,"  which  was  not  a  query, 
but  an  exclamation,  Welden  replaced  the 
gold  top  on  the  pencil  and  putting  it  back  in 
his  pocket,  turned  again  to  the  news. 

Before  him  Wicks  stood,  the  receiver  at 
his  ear,  a  hand  pendent  at  his  side.  It  was 
shaking  a  little. 

The  motion,  odd  in  itself,  attracted  Wel 
den.  His  eyes  roamed  slowly  upward  from 
it  to  the  agent's  face.  Wicks  was  standing 
now,  his  inouth  half  open,  looking  limply 
at  him. 

Welden  tossed  the  paper  aside. 

"Are  you  ill?" 


20  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Wicks  closed  his  mouth,  shook  his  head, 
then  partly  opened  his  mouth  again.  But 
still  he  did  not  speak. 

Welden  stood  up.  "Are  you?"  he  repeat 
ed. 

Then  finally  Wicks  did  speak.  "Your 
wife!"  he  said  slowly,  and  hanging  the  re 
ceiver  up,  flopped  into  a  chair. 

The  nightmare  that  had  overspread  the 
land  was  battening  individually  on  him. 
Through  it  the  face  of  the  grocer  peered. 
With  the  grocer  was  the  mortgagee.  Both 
were  throwing  him  and  his  out  on  the  coun 
try  road.  That  indeed  might  yet  occur.  At 
the  moment,  however,  he  was  but  being 
shaken,  not  roughly,  but  authoritatively, 
from  a  form  of  mental  swoon. 

"What  is  this  about  Mrs.  Welden? 
Why  the  devil  don't  you  tell  me?  Is  she 
ill?" 

Wicks,  the  Alert  and  Indefatigable, 
could  but  nod  in  reply. 


WHITE   PEACOCKS  21 

"Very?"  Welden  persisted.  "Come, 
damnation,  don't  keep  me  questioning  you 
like  this.  What  did  they  say?" 

The  winded  Wicks  now  had  got  his  breath. 
He  straightened  himself,  and  rising  from  the 
chair,  put  a  hand  on  Welden's  arm. 

"She  is — "    And  Wicks  raised  his  eyes. 

"Not  dead!"  cried  Welden,  starting  back. 

Wicks  moved  nearer  and  with  that  sym 
pathy  which,  in  certain  crises,  one  human 
being  will  always  show  to  another,  said  low- 

iy: 

"Mr.  Welden,  they  tell  me  that  this  lady 
has  been  killed." 

"Killed!"  Welden,  again  starting  back, 
repeated;  "but  how?" 

Then  the  detail,  passably  gruesome,  was  . 
produced. 

"They  found  her  in  bed,  her  throat  cut 
from  ear  to  ear." 


II 

THE  INQUEST 

Astride  the  brute  on  which  ten  minutes 
before  the  crumpler  had  nearly  occurred, 
Welden  tore  down  the  street,  galloped  along 
the  ocean  boulevard,  and  on,  into  a  scarlet 
lane,  at  the  end  of  which  stood  White  Pea 
cocks. 

The  entrance  was  a  bit  beyond.  Rather 
than  make  the  brief  circuit,  he  cleared  a 
hedge,  raced  through  the  grounds  and  flung 
himself  off  at  the  steps  of  the  verandah. 

In  the  hall,  through  the  open  door,  he  had 
a  glimpse  of  servants  huddled  together,  and 
of  a  woman,  her  face  to  the  wall,  whimper 
ing  like  a  frightened  cur. 

On  the  floor  above,  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  a  man  of  the  unmistakable  domestic 
type  stood  uncertainly. 


THE    INQUEST  23 

Welden  pointed  below.  "Send  those 
people  where  they  belong." 

Hurrying  by,  he  wrenched  open  a  door 
which  he  closed  behind  him.  When  present 
ly  that  door  reopened,  he  looked  older;  not 
white,  but  worn. 

As  before,  at  the  head  of  the  stair,  the 
man  was  standing.  Welden  motioned  him 
into  another  room,  one  wainscotted  with 
bookless  bookcases,  from  which  two  windows 
gave  on  the  sea. 

Through  one  of  them  Welden  looked, 
though  certainly  it  was  not  the  sea  that  he 
saw.  After  a  moment  he  turned.  The  man 
was  standing  by  a  table,  his  hands  hanging 
at  his  sides.  In  and  out  of  the  palms  the 
fingers  moved,  regularly,  mechanically,  per 
haps  unconsciously. 

"Harris,  close  the  door." 

The  man  obeyed. 

Welden  added:    "Tell  me  everything." 

"It  was  my  wife,  sir,  Perkins.     She  was 


24  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

taking  in  the  tray  with  the  breakfast  things, 
and  when  she  saw,  she  let  it  fall  and  ran  out 
and  called  to  me,  and  I  telephoned  to  Mr. 
Wickses." 

"Have  any  of  you  any  idea  who  did  it?" 

"No,  sir,  but—" 

"But  what?" 

"Thinking  as  how  you  would  wish  it,  I 
telephoned  to  the  police." 

Welden  nodded.  "I  told  Wicks  to.  They 
will  be  here  shortly.  Fetch  some  brandy  and 
soda." 

Harris  turned.  He  was  reopening  the 
door  when,  through  the  windows,  came  the 
whirr  of  a  motor,  the  sound  of  voices,  the 
shuffle  of  feet. 

"If  that  is  the  police,"  said  Welden,  "send 
them  here." 

From  an  oblong  silver  box  that  lay  on  the 
table  he  took  a  cigarette.  While  he  was 
lighting  it  Harris  reappeared.  Accompany 
ing  him  was  a  large  man  with  small  eyes,  a 


THE    INQUEST  25 

deformed  stomach  and  a  red  moustache.  As 
he  entered  he  looked  Welden  over. 

"I'm  Chief  of  Police,"  he  announced. 
"Right  off  I  want—" 

But  Welden,  accustomed  to  give  orders 
and  not  at  all  to  receive  them,  cut  him  short. 

"Harris,  show  the  way.  Do  whatever 
is  required.  The  brandy  and  soda  can 
wait." 

In  a  little,  however,  the  liquor  was  forth 
coming. 

"There  are  two  of  them,  sir,  besides  the 
chief,"  Harris  volunteered,  placing,  as  he 
spoke,  the  bottles  on  the  table.  "And  the 
coroner  is  here." 

Welden,  who  had  seated  himself,  took  an 
other  cigarette.  Through  the  windows 
came  the  savour  of  salt,  the  scent  of  flowers ; 
there  came,  too,  the  bark  of  a  dog,  caught 
up  and  repeated.  The  forenoon  was  depart 
ing  in  perfect  clarity  and,  save  for  an  occa 
sional  footfall,  save,  too,  for  an  indistinct 


26  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

murmur  of  voices,  in  a  peace  that  was  per 
fect  as  well. 

Shortly  the  silence  was  stirred.  There 
came  a  rap  at  the  door.  Before  Welden 
could  answer,  it  opened.  The  chief  entered. 
With  him  was  a  little  man,  with  smoke- 
coloured  glasses  and  a  suit  of  leprous  brown. 

Closing  the  door,  the  officer  indicated  his 
companion.  "This  here  is  Dr.  Quizen- 
berry,  the  coroner.  We're  goin'  to  ask  some 
questions." 

"Sit  down,"  said  Welden.  "Will  you 
drink  anything?" 

The  chief  accepted,  but  the  coroner  re 
fused.  Welden  filled  a  tumbler  which  he 
gave  to  the  former. 

He  drank  it  noisily.  "Nasty  business," 
he  muttered.  "Damn  nasty."  Wiping  his 
mouth  and  drawing  a  chair,  he  seated  him 
self  in  front  of  Welden.  "When  did  you 
last  see  yer  wife?" 

"A  moment  before  you  got  here.     You 


THE    INQUEST  27 

probably  mean,  though,  when  did  I  last  see 
her  alive.  That  was  at  midnight." 

"Nothin'  unusual  been  goin'  on?" 

"Nothing." 

The  chief  gnawed  moodily  at  a  finger  nail. 
His  thoughts  were  few  and  slow.  He  was 
assisting  at  their  laborious  accouchement. 
Presently,  delivered  of  one,  he  looked  sus 
piciously  at  it  and  from  it  to  Welden. 

"You  and yer wife  had  separate  rooms?" 

Welden  nodded. 

"The  man  out  there  showed  me  yours,  it's 
on  the  other  side  of  the  house." 

Again  Welden  nodded. 

"Durin'  the  night  you  heard  nothin'?" 

"Nothing  whatever.  But  in  regard  to  my 
domestic  arrangements  you  may  have  no 
ticed  that  in  this  house  there  are  but  two 
sleeping  porches,  one  abutting  from  my 
room,  the  other  from  Mrs.  Welden's.  I 
have  been  in  California  before  and  when  here 
I  prefer  to  sleep  in  the  open  air.  Mrs.  Wei- 


28  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

den  had  not  accustomed  herself  to  it,  though 
naturally  she  slept  with  the  windows  open." 
"That's  right,"  said  Dr.  Quizenherry, 
"and  with  the  screen  door  to  the  porch  un 
fastened.  Anybody  could  have  climbed 


in." 


"Anythin'  missin'?"  the  chief  inquired. 

"I  do  not  know,"  Welden  answered. 
"Usually  Mrs.  Welden  did  not  appear 
much  before  noon.  This  morning,  long  be 
fore  she  would  ordinarily  have  been  up,  I  was 
in  Santa  Barbara.  Since  I  got  back  I  have 
had  no  time  to  look." 

Under  the  steady  gaze  of  Welden's  eyes, 
and  the  prompt  and  rapid  fire  of  his  speech, 
the  chief's  laboriously  accouched  suspicion 
died.  Burying  it  decently,  he  asked:  "Had 
yer  wife  any  enemies?" 

"Probably,"  Welden,  with  an  uplift  of  the 
chin,  replied.  "But  hardly  among  such 
people." 

At  that  the  chief  leaned  forward.     The 


THE    INQUEST  29 

coroner  cocked  an  eye.  The  possibility  that 
the  statement  had  not  been  understood,  oc 
curred  to  Welden. 

"I  mean,"  he  resumed,  "that  such  enemies 
as  Mrs.  Welden  may  have  had  were  of  her 
own  class,  and  assuming  the  impossible,  as 
suming,  that  is,  that  their  enmity  could  have 
been  murderous,  they  would  hardly  have 
gone  about  it  in  this  way." 

"Hey?"  the  chief,  groping  still  in  dark 
ness,  threw  out. 

But  the  coroner  had  got  it.  "That's 
right,"  he  threw  in.  "It's  not  the  crime  of 
an  educated  person;  more  like  some  Jack 
the  Ripper  business." 

"Or  the  Roo  Morgue,"  the  now  enlight 
ened  chief  insinuated,  indicating  by  the  in 
sinuation  that  he,  at  any  rate,  was  educated. 
"You've  a  greaser  here,"  he  continued.  "I 
don't  care  for  him,  or  for  the  Jap  either." 

"They  were  here  before  I  came,"  Welden 
answered.  "There  is  also  an  Irishman,  a 


SO  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

negro  and  some  servants  we  got  from  Los 
Angeles.  I  know  nothing  about  any  of  them. 
But  Harris,  the  man  who  showed  you  about, 
and  Perkins,  his  wife,  came  with  us  from 
Europe.  I  have  every  confidence  in  them. 
Perkins  always  took  care  of  Mrs.  Welden's 
jewelry." 

"Had  she  much?" 

For  a  moment  Welden's  long  thin  fingers 
beat  a  tattoo  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  "Quite 
a  lot,"  he  finally  replied.  "But  the  majority 
of  it  is  at  our  bankers'  in  Paris.  Here  Mrs. 
Welden  had  with  her  a  string  of  pearls,  a 
few  pins  and  some  rather  valuable  rings 
which  she  got  recently  in  India." 

"There  are  no  rings  on  her  hands.  Did 
she  sleep  with  'em?" 

"Really,"  said  Welden,  "I  am  not  sure. 
My  impression  is  that  she  did  not." 

"What  were  they,  dimons?" 

Welden  drummed  for  a  moment  again. 
"There  were  two  table-cut  diamonds,  two 


THE    INQUEST  SI 

tallow  drop  emeralds,  an  inch-long  sapphire 
and  a  double  ruby,  a  ruby  set  on  a  ruby,  one 
on  top  of  the  other." 

The  chief  sat  up.  "What  would  yer  say 
they  were  worth?" 

Welden,  running  his  fingers  through  his 
thick,  bright  hair,  looked  at  the  ceiling  and 
then  back  at  the  officer.  "At  Delhi,  in  our 
money,  the  rubies  cost  forty-five  thousand, 
altogether  the  others  cost  as  much  more. 
Here,  of  course,  they  would  come  higher." 

The  chief  whistled.  It  was  his  welcome  to 
the  light,  clear,  direct,  unequivocal,  which 
then  broke  fully  upon  him.  He  jumped  to 
his  feet. 

"If  they're  gone,"  he  exclaimed,  "there's 
the  motive.  Let's  see  if  they've  been 
pinched." 

"That's  right,"  said  Dr.  Quizenberry,  ris 
ing  too. 

"Chief,"  said  Welden,  rising  also,  "I  was 
in  that  room  before  you  came.  It  may  give 


32  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

you  a  poor  opinion  of  me,  but  it  will  be  a 
little  before  I  care  to  return." 

"Poor  opinion!  Lord!  If  my  wife  had 
been  done  up  as  yours  has,  111  be  jiggered  if 
I  could  show  your  nerve.  It's  grit  yer  got, 
real  grit." 

"That's  right,"  the  coroner  repeated. 
"That's  right." 

But  Welden  had  rung  for  Harris.  As  the 
authorities  passed  from  the  room  he  went 
again  to  the  window. 

Before  him  the  Pacific  stretched,  a  syrupy 
blue.  Over  it  he  looked  and  far  beyond,  to 
another  ocean,  one  that  beat  against  the 
coast  of  France.  Above  it  a  vision  mounted, 
the  picture  of  a  pillowed  head.  That  picture, 
photographed  on  the  mind's  encephalic  films, 
became  a  negative  on  which  developed  others. 
At  Deauville,  in  the  hall  of  a  villa,  he 
saw — 

"Mr.  Welden,"  some  one  was  saying. 

He  turned.     The  authorities  were  before 


THE    INQUEST  33 

him,  the  chief  nodding  significantly  while 
the  other  grimly  smiled. 

"Won't  you  have  another  drink?"  Wei- 
den  asked. 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  the  chief. 

"That's  right,"  said  the  coroner,  "I  will 
too." 

Then,  as  they  helped  themselves  and  stood 
there,  the  one  large,  the  other  small,  both 
ludicrous  and  equally  imbecile,  they  re 
minded  Welden  of  some  scene,  in  some  play, 
that  he  had  seen  somewhere  long  before. 

"The  pearls  and  pins  are  safe,"  the  big 
man  began.  "They  were  locked  in  a  bag,  and 
they're  there  now.  But  the  rings  are  gone. 
The  maid  says  they  were  on  the  dressin'  table 
last  night,  when  she  was  gettin'  yer  wife 
ready  for  bed.  Since  which  they've  been 
cribbed.  Whoever  pinched  'em  did  it,  and 
I'll  bet  yer  now  I  know  who  that  is,  for 
though  they're  gone,  somethin'  has  turned 
up.  Can  yer  guess  what?" 


34  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

But  Welden  could  not. 

"The  instrument!  When  there's  any  fun 
ny  business,  that's  what  we  look  for;  that  and 
the  motive.  When  we've  both,  we've  only 
to  show  the  opportunity  to  nail  the  man. 
Well,  we  have.  It's  the  Irishman.  The 
knife  was  in  the  barn.  The  motive — and 
motive  enough — was  the  rings;  the  oppor 
tunity—" 

"But,"  Welden  protested,  "the  poor  devil 
is  lame.  He  could  not  have  climbed  to  the 
porch." 

"Oho!  You  don't  know  how  spry  a  lame 
man  can  be.  Besides,  how  do  we  know  that 
he  did  climb?  In  a  house  like  this,  unless  the 
boss  sees  to  it  himself,  yer  never  sure  about 
the  doors  and  windows.  Anyhow,  what 
did  he  have  a  carving  knife  stuck  in  his  hay 
for?  That's  no  place  for  a  bleeder.  Lord! 
And  an  alibi  rollin'  right  out  of  him.  That's 
the  way  with  these  vermin.  Whenever  they 
do  anythin'  crooked,  they  always  have  an 


THE    INQUEST  35 

alibi  and  more  vermin  to  back  'em  up.  It's 
my  sworn  duty  to  protect  the  bastard,  but, 
if  it  wasn't,  Lord!  I'd  say  lynch  him.  I 
wasn't  raised  here,  I  came  from  the  South." 

"That's  right,"  the  coroner  remarked,  and 
meditatively  finished  his  glass. 

"Well,  anyhow,  he's  on  his  way  to  the 
lock-up,"  the  chief  continued,  putting  down 
his  own. 

"When's  the  inquest?"  he  asked,  turning 
to  Dr.  Quizenberry. 

"To-morrow  noon." 

Turning  to  Welden  he  added:  "I  can 
count  on  yer  to  be  there?" 

"Naturally,"  Welden  answered,  and  the 
authorities  withdrew. 

When  they  had  gone,  Welden  took  from 
his  pocket  a  letter,  one  already  opened, 
which  he  re-read,  tore  slowly  to  bits,  and  then 
poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy.  Before  he  had 
finished  it,  Harris  reappeared. 

"Will  you  have  luncheon,  sir?" 


36  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Welden  nodded.  "You  and  Perkins  must 
get  everything  in  order.  You  must  also  find 
an  undertaker.  Say  that  he  is  to  arrange 
about  a  plot  and  that  he  is  also  to  arrange 
with  an  Episcopal  clergyman  to  hold  services 
here  and  at  the  grave.  Afterward,  I  shall 
not  require  Perkins,  and  as  I  cannot  expect 
you  to  leave  her,  I  will  give  you  each  six 
months'  wages,  and  your  expenses  home." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  I  am  sure  we  are  both 
very  grateful.  Will  you  have  luncheon  here, 
sir,  or  in  the  breakfast  room?" 

"I  will  have  it  here.  By  the  way,  Mrs. 
Welden  is  to  be  in  ball  gown.  The  canary 
one,  Perkins  will  know,  with  a  lace  scarf 
about  the  neck,  high  up.  If  the  scarf  is  in 
sufficient,  use  an  opera  cloak,  the  violet  and 
gold  one.  Perkins  will  know  about  that 
also." 

"Yes,  sir.  It  will  be  attended  to.  ShaU  I 
fetch  the  luncheon  now,  sir?" 

Welden  nodded. 


THE    INQUEST  37 

In  a  little  while  the  man  returned  with  a 
tray.  When  he  had  arranged  it,  he  said: 

"Begging  your  pardon,  sir,  I  was  to  ask 
would  you  wish  the  hair  marcelled?" 

"Whatever  is  necessary.    And,  Harris — " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Tell  the  undertaker  that  before  the  coffin 
is  closed,  he  is  to  notify  me.  I  wish  to  go 
there." 

"Yes,  sir;  thank  you,  sir.  Luncheon  is 
served." 

For  hours  Welden  sat,  looking  at  the 
sea,  looking,  too,  at  the  pictures  that  devel 
oped  on  the  mind's  encephalic  films. 

Toward  sunset,  other  pictures  developed. 
On  the  horizon  clouds,  sinister  and  malig 
nant,  shaped  themselves  into  the  resemblance 
of  enormous  centaurs,  combating  with  each 
other  for  mountains  of  gold  and  of  flame. 
The  sky  was  dyed  with  their  wounds,  flooded 
with  the  hemorrhages  of  the  monstrous  mas 
sacre.  Sometimes  masses  of  flesh  were  torn 


38  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

and  hurled  into  craters.  Sometimes  others 
were  tossed  like  shawls  across  the  bleeding 
sky. 

Eastward,  from  over  the  Sierra  Madre, 
titans  trooped  to  the  fight.  It  was  as  though 
they  had  sprung  suddenly  across  the  ages 
from  their  fabulous  dream,  and  just  as  they 
menaced  the  world,  abruptly  they  vanished. 
Before  them  an  immense  arc  had  been  flung. 
Within  the  rainbow,  throughout  its  entire 
semi-circumference,  a  vapour  floated,  thick, 
glistening  and  mauve. 

Presently,  as  if  a  curtain  had  risen,  that 
passed,  banished  by  the  sudden  sun.  From 
the  west  the  centaurs  had  fled,  and  now, 
throughout  the  heavens,  stretched  archipel 
agoes,  deliciously  pink,  that  seemed  like 
lands  of  love. 

Coerced  by  the  splendour  of  the  spectacle, 
Welden  had  gone  out  on  the  lawn.  The 
fair  beauty  of  the  sky  detained  him.  It 
seemed  inaugural  of  larger  life. 


Ill 

THE   CLUE 

To  the  vulgar  any  indecency  is  amusing, 
the  greater  the  shamelessness  of  it  the  more 
thorough  the  mirth;  and,  on  the  morrow, 
there  was  thrown  into  this  tenebrous  drama, 
a  quick  note  hilarious  and  obscene,  one  that, 
with  the  usual  attentuations,  went  reverber 
ating  through  the  press.  For  the  case,  al 
ready  famous,  entered  at  once  into  that  high 
spectacular  class  which  invites  people,  pre 
viously  unacquainted,  to  discuss  and  surmise. 

In  the  trains,  on  the  boats,  in  smoking 
compartments,  wherever  men  are  penned  to 
gether,  individuals  who  had  never  seen  each 
other  before,  and  who,  ordinarily,  would  not 
much  wish  to  again,  found  in  it  a  subject  of 
common  concern. 

Perhaps  nothing  excites  the  imagination 


40  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

quite  so  thoroughly  as  mystery  does,  and 
here  was  one  graduated  to  every  taste,  a 
story  equally  absorbing  to  high  and  low, 
and  not  locally  merely,  for,  as  it  was  imme 
diately  recognised,  the  Weldens  were  people 
of  position,  both  at  home  and  abroad. 

According  to  statements  telegraphed  to 
the  California  press,  from  New  York,  Wei- 
den's  family  had  been  identified  with  that 
city  since  its  incorporation,  and  even  before, 
at  a  time  when  it  was  Nieuw  Orange,  and 
not  yet  New  York.  While,  as  for  the  mur 
dered  woman,  born  a  Kandy,  and  affiliated 
with  quite  Manhattan's  best,  she  had  mar 
ried  Welden  after  divorcing  her  first  hus 
band,  a  foreigner,  the  Due  de  Malakoff. 

To  these  outlines,  details  were  added. 
Prior  to  the  marriage,  Welden,  who  was  a 
man  of  inherited  wealth,  had  been  engaged 
to  Miss  Barhyte,  a  New  York  girl  of  the 
ultra-fashionable  set.  But,  coincidentally 
with  the  divorce,  the  engagement  had  been 


THE     CLUE  41 

broken,  and  Welden  and  Malakoff  had 
gone  out  together,  though,  after  the  French 
fashion,  without  appreciable  damage. 

But  why  had  they  gone  out?  Why  had 
the  engagement  been  broken,  and  why  the 
divorce  ? 

Here  were  pleasurable  mysteries  super 
posing  themselves  on  the  denser  darkness  of 
the  crime,  and  suggesting  to  the  detectives 
of  the  breakfast  table  that  it  was  assassins  of 
the  duke  who  had  done  it ;  if  not,  then  emis 
saries  of  the  girl. 

For  by  the  time  the  foregoing  and  very  in 
correct  details,  together  with  bogus  present 
ments  of  all  concerned,  had  been  journalis 
tically  set  forth,  by  that  time,  the  lame  ostler 
had  been  released. 

Amid  great  hilarity  and  to  the  satisfac 
tion  of  everybody — save  of  one  policeman 
only — he  had  demonstrated  that  if  at  the 
hour,  two  A.  M.,  at  which  time  it  had  been 
shown  the  crime  was  committed,  he  were  il- 


42  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

legally  occupied,  the  illegality  had  been  ef 
fected  at  Santa  Barbara  with  the  privity, 
connivance  and  in  the  society  of  that  police 
man's  wife.  The  woman,  immediately  sum 
moned,  had  at  first  hotly  denied,  but 
prodded  with  questions  at  once  circumstan 
tial  and  deplorably  intimate,  finally  yielded, 
and  admitted  the  fact. 

Thereupon,  no  one  else  being  under  sus 
picion,  and  no  further  evidence  having  been 
adduced,  verdict  was  rendered  that  the  de 
ceased  had  come  to  her  death  at  the  hands  of 
some  person  or  persons  unknown. 

Then,  for  the  bono  publicanism  of  it — 
which,  being  interpreted,  meant  little  more 
than  the  coin  of  affluent  Easterners, 
who,  already  scarce,  might  become  scarcer 
— it  was  felt  that  town  and  county 
ought  to  make  the  apprehension  of  the 
person  or  persons  definitely  worth  while. 
But  before  the  matter  could  be  put  into  an 
inviting  shape,  provided,  that  is,  there  was 


THE     CLUE  43 

any  real  intention  of  so  putting  it,  Welden 
offered  a  reward  of  $25,000  for  such  infor 
mation  as  would  lead  to  their  arrest  and  con 
viction;  $5,000  additional  for  the  recovery 
of  the  rings. 

The  gross  amount,  a  small  fortune  to 
some,  a  large  one  to  many,  fevered  a  number 
of  people  and,  among  them,  Wicks  partic 
ularly. 

In  those  days,  Wicks  was  an  unhappy 
man.  Only  a  fortnight  had  intervened  be 
tween  the  renting  of  White  Peacocks  and 
the  morning  on  which  Welden  had  intimated 
his  intention  of  buying  the  property.  Then 
this  thing  had  occurred,  and  from  his  hand, 
from  his  lips  even,  the  cup  had  been  torn. 
The  cup,  or  more  exactly  its  contents,  the 
compensation,  would  have  sufficed  until  Jan 
uary,  when  the  Eastern  influx  of  affluence 
was  usually  due.  But  this  was  April.  Jan- 
was  many  moons  away,  and  things 
very  bleak  in  the  mortgaged  bun- 


44  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

galow,  on  the  porch  of  which,  endlessly  he 
•went  over  them  all.  It  was,  though,  a  dis 
tressed  and  weary  Wicks  who  did  it,  and 
weary  and  distressed  was  the  woman  whom 
he  forced  to  hear  and  rehear  the  tale. 

Then,  into  the  bleakness  of  things,  there 
tumbled  the  announcement  of  the  rewards. 
They  inflamed  Wicks,  who,  though  he  lacked 
the  gift  of  divination,  was  at  least  alert  and 
indefatigable,  or  at  least,  so  claimed  to  be, 
and  these  were  attributes  which,  chance  facil 
itating,  might  aid  him  to  secure  the  por 
tentous  sum.  In  his  favour  moreover  was 
his  superior  quality  of  agent  of  the  estate. 
Strangers  might  hover  about  there,  detect 
ives,  whether  amateur  or  professional, 
might  prowl  there  as  well,  and  against  these 
the  guilty  would  be  on  their  guard,  whereas 
his  presence  would  be  taken  as  a  matter  of 
course.  In  the  mere  exercise  of  his  func 
tions  he  was  free  to  roam  at  will. 

These   considerations,   natural   in   them- 


THE     CLUE  45 

selves,  had  for  basis  an  assumption,  which 
Wicks  by  no  means  reached  alone,  that  the 
murder  was  the  work  of  someone  directly 
associated  with  the  estate.  Possibly  it  might 
have  been  done  by  a  passing  bandit.  Pos 
sibly,  also,  the  criminal  might  be  a  pirate 
come  in  from  the  sea.  But  in  that  case  it 
were  necessary  to  assume  on  the  part  of  an 
outsider,  an  entire  familiarity  with  the  lo 
cale,  and  a  knowledge  not  only  of  the 
jewels,  but  of  the  intimate  fact  that  the 
dead  woman  slept  alone.  Acquaintance 
with  these  matters  was  of  course  possible, 
for  the  reason  that  anything  and  everything 
is.  But,  at  least,  it  was  not  probable. 

Eliminating,  therefore,  the  outsider,  the 
murder  was  necessarily  the  work  of  some 
of  those  within.  From  the  latter  the  adul 
terous  ostler  was  already  excluded.  The 
others,  the  half-breed,  the  negro,  the  Japan 
ese,  together  with  the  laundress,  a  scullion 
and  a  housemaid,  recruited  from  Los  An- 


40  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

geles,  were  all  quartered  in  a  separate  build 
ing.  The  fact  had  been  brought  out  at  the 
inquest,  where  it  had  been  also  shown  that 
during  the  Weldens'  tenancy,  none  of  them, 
except  the  housemaid,  the  scullion  and  the 
cook,  had  ever  entered  the  house;  and  into 
the  main  part  of  it,  as  distinct  from  the 
kitchen  and  its  offices,  the  cook  and  the  scul 
lion  had  not  once,  except  on  the  morning 
when  the  murder  was  discovered,  been  known 
or  permitted  to  come. 

The  housemaid  had  necessarily  the  run  of 
it,  but  by  day  only,  and  while  information 
concerning  the  rings  might  have  been  con 
veyed  by  her  to  other  parties,  she  would  not 
have  been  aware  that  they  were  unprotected 
at  night,  unless  she  had  been  so  informed 
by  Perkins,  or  by  Harris,  who  as  Perkins' 
husband,  probably  knew  as  much  as  she  did. 

On  the  other  hand,  information  of  this 
character  would  hardly  be  supplied  by  upper 
servants,  who  lived  apart  from  the  others, 


THE     CLUE  47 

particularly  as  one  might  say,  on  an 
acquaintance  so  brief.  You  never  can  tell, 
however,  yet  accepting  the  facts  as  they 
appeared,  the  matter  narrowed  down  to 
those  who  slept  in  the  house,  that  is  to  say, 
to  Harris  and  Perkins. 

For  clearly  Welden  was  out  of  it,  if  for 
no  other  reason  than  because,  had  he  wished 
to  be  rid  of  the  lady,  a  brief  sojourn  in 
neighbourly  Nevada  would  suffice  to  set  him 
legally  free.  Or,  if  divorce  seemed  circui 
tous,  a  slight  shove  from  the  bluff,  a  taran 
tula  put  nesting  in  her  bed,  and,  without  in 
convenience,  the  thing  was  done.  But  any 
thing  of  the  kind  was  beyond  peradventure, 
in  addition  to  being  absurd.  Men  of  the 
world  do  not  kill  an  obnoxious  wife.  They 
find  it  simpler  to  detest  her.  Moreover, 
such  men  as  do  murder  their  wives,  do  not 
first  steal  the  lady's  jewels  and  then  offer  a 
reward  for  their  own  apprehension,  another 
for  the  recovery  of  the  gems.  They  do  not, 


48  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

that  is,  unless  they  are  lunatics,  and  anyone 
saner  than  Welden  it  were  difficult  to 
meet. 

These  deductions  Wicks  did  not  reach 
unaided  or  even  as  they  are  here  set  forth. 
On  the  contrary,  they  were  prompted  in  part 
by  the  press,  partly  by  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 
As  a  consequence,  they  were  superficial  and, 
therefore,  unsound.  But  they  satisfied,  so 
fully  even  that  he  kept  an  alert  eye  on  Har 
ris,  an  indefatigable  one  on  Perkins. 

In  spite  of  which  he  saw  nothing  sus 
picious.  At  the  time  being  he  was  not,  how 
ever,  as  close  to  them  as  he  could  have  wished, 
and  that  defect  he  artfully  remedied.  After 
the  funeral,  Welden,  leaving  for  address 
the  Plaza,  New  York,  boarded  a  train  and 
was  taken  away.  But  these  two  remained 
in  situations  luringly  procured  at  wages- 
California  wages! — such  as  they  had  never 
known,  never  heard  of  or  even  dreamed. 

Then  for  a  while  mention  of  the  murder, 


THE     CLUE  49 

dropped  by  the  press,  faded  from  Miramar. 
But  not  from  Santa  Barbara.  There  the 
Alert  and  Indefatigable,  after  rehearsing  it 
endlessly  to  his  weary  wife,  happened  sud 
denly  on  a  clue. 


PAKT  II 
THE    DAUGHTERS 

I 
SALLY'S  DUKE 

To  go  back  a  little. 

Sally  Malakoff  was  twenty.  She  was 
rich,  good  looking,  and  a  duchess,  yet  she 
described  herself  as  a  miserable  woman  and 
the  world  believed  her.  But  though  the 
world  believed  it  did  not  sympathise.  It  was 
felt  that  she  had  not  acted  as  she  should  have. 
For  that  there  were  excuses. 

A  little  while  before  she  had  married  a 
brute.  Though  a  New  York  girl,  she  was 
at  the  time  very  ignorant.  In  the  way  we 
live  now  that  is  exceptional.  Married  women 


SALLY'S    DUKE  51 

discuss  matters  before  the  young  person 
with  a  clarity  which  leaves  her  nothing  to 
guess  ahout.  Through  some  miracle.  Sally 
had  heen  left  in  the  dark.  A  contributory 
cause  may  have  heen  her  mentality  which  was 
shallow,  but.  as  she  was  naturally  sly,  the 
miracle  was  none  the  less  marvellous.  Other 
wise,  in  appearance  and  manner  that  is,  she 
was  a  typically  sweet  young  tiling.  She 
talked  nicely  ahout  nothing.  Her  features 
were  dainty  and  delicate.  Her  hair  was 
dark  and  she  had  mauve  eyes,  which,  ob 
lique  and  half  closed,  gave  her  an  aspect 
faintly  Chinese.  Born  a  Kaudy,  and  known 
generally  as  Sugar  Candy,  she  quite  lived 
up  to  the  name. 

Heat  sugar  and  abruptly  it  boils.  Sally 
did  boil,  not  long,  and  not  effervescent ly. 
but  with  a  sort  of  contained  rage.  Mar 
riage  she  had  seen  somewhere  defined  as  an 
nation  for  the  pursuit  of  things  human 
and  divine,  and  it  was  with  angry  amaze- 


52  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ment  that  she  discovered  what,  in  her  case, 
was  the  derisive  falsity  of  the  definition. 

During  the  honeymoon,  or  more  exactly 
during  Malakoif's,  for  the  girl  was  but  an 
indignant  participator  in  it,  the  man  ap 
proached  her  after  the  fashion  of  a  pasha 
who  has  acquired  a  slave.  The  girl  loathed 
him  for  it,  and  it  was  that  loathing  perhaps 
which  directly  precipitated  this  drama.  On 
the  other  hand,  if,  as  it  has  been  affirmed, 
one's  destiny  is  preordered,  it  may  be  that 
even  otherwise  the  result  would  have  been  the 
same.  Admitting  fatality,  one's  moods 
cannot  alter  it.  But  the  fault  of  it,  in  so  far 
at  least  as  is  humanly  discernible,  rested, 
primarily,  not  with  Sally's  husband,  but  with 
her  mother,  never  more  than  a  relative  to 
this  girl,  whose  father  had  been  but  an  ac 
quaintance. 

The  latter,  Sam  Kandy,  could  have  had 
but  three  objects  in  life;  to  marry,  have  a 
child  and  make  a  fortune;  for  these  things 


SALLY'S    DUKE  53 

accomplished,  he  concluded  to  die,  and  did 
so,  after  the  fine  New  York  fashion,  with 
no  fuss  whatever,  and  in  a  manner  which 
Mrs.  Kandy,  who  had  no  affection  for  him, 
or  for  anyone  save  herself,  described  as  most 
gentlemanly. 

That,  though,  was  only  an  amiable  com 
monplace.  In  New  York  it  is  a  man's  mere 
duty  to  leave  a  lot  of  money.  Sam  Kandy 
bequeathed  to  his  daughter  one  million  for 
life,  with  reversion  to  her  issue,  failing  which, 
the  principal  passed  to  his  nephews.  To  his 
widow  he  left  six  million  absolutely. 

The  provisions  of  the  will  enabled  Mrs. 
Kandy  to  bear  the  testator's  loss  with  a 
fortitude  eminently  Christian.  She  was  a 
large,  fair  woman,  with  a  large,  fair  wig,  and 
the  purplish  complexion  which  internal  dis 
turbances  when  combined  with  poudre  de  riz 
will  impart,  and  when  through  a  jewelled 
lorgnette,  she  surveyed  the  trappings  of  her 
woe,  she  declared  in  the  shrill  voice  which 


54  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

was  habitual  to  her,  that   black  is   not   be 
coming. 

Nor  is  it.  But  the  lady  must  have  pre 
ferred  colours.  Shortly  she  resumed  them, 
and,  with  Sally,  betook  herself  to  Paris. 

It  was  in  Paris  that  Malakoff  was  en 
countered,  and  the  marriage  ensued. 

Jean-Rene-Marie,  Due  de  Malakoff, 
Prince  de  1'Alma,  had,  from  adolescence, 
been  trained  like  a  colt  for  the  Grand  Prix 
in  the  international  steeplechase  of  marriage. 
"Duchesse  de  Malakoff,"  his  mother,  cease 
lessly,  had  dinged  in  his  ears.  "That,  at  the 
lowest,  is  worth  ten  million  francs."  The 
poor  woman  knew.  Five  million  francs  was 
what  her  people  had  paid — five  million 
thrown  in  the  gutter — and  since  then  prices 
had  doubled.  But  her  son,  thus  far,  when 
not  outclassed,  had  been  outpaced.  There 
was  Miss  Murray,  the  American  heiress, 
welshed  from  him  by  Solferino.  There  was 
Miss  Beux,  laden  down  with  brewery  guin- 


SALLY'S    DUKE  55 

eas,  whom  d'Ostende  had  won  by  a  nose. 
There  was  Mile.  Moses,  the  pearl  of  the 
Ghetto,  whom  d'Eylau  had  jockeyed  away. 
There  was  Senorita  Lopez  y  Montez,  sole 
child  of  the  Chilean  Croesus,  whom  Cam- 
baceres  had  filched  from  his  hand. 

These  misadventures  diminished  the  lus 
tre  of  a  title  that,  while  obviously  Second 
Empire,  was  yet  a  trifle  heavy  for  one  who 
has  nothing,  which,  barring  debts — the  float 
ing  debt  of  the  duchy — and  an  assortment 
of  vices — the  traditional  vices  of  the  French 
nobility  — constituted  the  sole  possessions  of 
this  man,  who  was  not  bad  looking. 

Malakoff  had  blue-black  hair,  blue-black 
eyes,  a  thin,  straight  nose,  and  a  retreating 
chin,  which  a  pointed  beard  concealed.  With 
out  being  tall,  he  was  not  short,  but,  since  the 
misadventures,  perhaps  out  of  training,  for 
he  had  ceased  to  give  in  at  the  waist.  He 
dressed  less  abominably  than  the  majority 
of  Frenchmen,  got  his  clothes  from  London, 


56  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

and  with  them  displayed  an  air  of  being  sur 
rounded  by  lackeys  ready  at  a  gesture  from 
him  to  shut  the  door  in  anyone's  face,  that 
air  of  indisputable  superiority  which,  at  an 
earlier  epoch,  when  the  nobility  had  been 
divested  of  other  insignia,  persisted,  and  so 
exasperated  that  the  one  remedy  for  its  ar 
rogance  was  the  austere  guillotine. 

Though  seigneurial — in  appearance — he 
could — when  it  suited  him — unbend.  On 
such  occasions  he  was  affable  or  merely  ca 
naille. 

Mrs.  Kandy,  who  met  him  on  the  stalk 
ing  ground  which  the  American  embassy  is, 
thought  him  simply  fascinating.  To  Sally, 
he  was  part  of  the  landscape,  and  that  not 
from  any  democratic  disdain — she  had  none, 
the  New  York  girl  never  does  have  any — 
but  for  the  more  intimate  reason  that  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Fifth  Avenue  there  was  a 
man  with  laughing  eyes,  with  whom  she  fan 
cied  herself  in  love. 


SALLY'S    DUKE  57 

Sally,  quoted  currently  at  ten  million 
francs,  flattered  MalakofFs  eye.  He  had 
trained  for  more,  but  latterly  he  felt  that  he 
had  trained  in  vain. 

Mrs.  Kandy,  who  had  trained  also,  but 
only  in  social  values,  for  which  she  had  a 
naive  and  inexact  appreciation,  encouraged 
him  to  make  up  to  the  girl,  when  she  saw  that 
he  had  no  intention  of  making  up  to  the  girl's 
mamma,  which  he  certainly  would  have,  had 
he  known  the  terms  of  Sam  Kandy's  will. 

He  did  not  know,  however,  nor,  at  the 
moment,  was  there  any  one  that  could  ac 
quaint  him  with  them,  except  Mrs.  Kandy, 
who,  in  telling  the  truth,  which  she  some 
times  did,  sometimes  found  it  advantageous 
not  to  tell  all  of  it. 

"And  so  you  wish  to  have  my  little  girl 
for  your  wife,"  she  shrilly  resumed,  when,  in 
the  elaborate  suite  which  she  occupied  at  the 
Elysee  Hotel,  the  formal  and  unleisurely 
demand  had  been  made. 


58  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Partly  that,"  he  replied  in  the  passable 
English  which  he  had  acquired  in  prepara 
tion  for  the  Prix.  "Partly  that,  but  partly 
also,  that  I  may  have  you  for  mother-in- 
law." 

No  duke  had  ever  talked  in  such  a  fashion 
to  Mrs.  Kandy.  Barring  the  Duke  of  Kin 
cardine,  who,  the  previous  winter,  had 
lounged  about  New  York,  no  duke  had  ever 
talked  to  her  at  all,  and,  as  for  Kincardine, 
he  had,  on  meeting  her,  only  said;  "Hello," 
after  which  he  had  lounged  away.  Mala- 
kofF s  treatment  was  at  least  more  gracious, 
and  graciousness  to  herself  was  Mrs.  Kan- 
dy's  forte. 

"If  you  are  good  to  her,  I  shall  feel  that 
I  can  die  in  peace,"  remarked  the  lady,  who, 
whatever  happened,  had  no  intention  of 
doing  anything  of  the  kind. 

Malakoff,  with  equal  sincerity,  replied: 
"The  dear  angel,  I  will  refuse  her  nothing." 

"Sally  has  a  million  dollars,"  Mrs.  Kandy 


SALLY'S   DUKE  59 

threw  in,  omitting,  however,  to  fill  it  up  with 
the  fact  that  the  million  was  for  life. 

"Devilish  thin,"  thought  Malakoff,  who 
thought,  too,  of  backing  out.  But  a  million 
dollars  spells  five  million  francs,  and  that 
amount  he  doubted  his  ability  to  duplicate. 

"At  my  death,"  Mrs.  Kandy  added,  with 
a  candour  which  she  afterward  tearfully  re 
gretted,  "Sally  will  have  six  million  more." 

But  the  contingency,  remote  to  him,  lugu 
brious  to  her,  neither  chose  to  consider 
further,  and  presently,  after  Sally  had  been 
summoned,  and  the  non-existent  duchy  had 
been  placed  at  her  feet,  Malakoff  took  him 
self  off. 

Not  far,  however,  around  the  corner  mere 
ly  to  the  rue  Galilee,  where  dwelled  a  Mme. 
Oppensheim  who  was  his  mistress,  and  who 
had  supported  him  for  years. 

Giselle  Oppensheim,  born  de  Beaupre, 
had  been  married  into  the  high  finance  by  her 
people,  who  were  very  noble,  prodigiously 


60  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

proud,  and  equally  poor.  Giselle  de  Beau- 
pre  accepted  Oppensheim  for  money  in  the 
same  measure  that  he  sought  her  for  place. 
That  was  ten  years  before.  Since  then, 
Oppensheim  had  paid  for  his  aspirations, 
and,  from  an  Anglo-Saxon  standpoint, 
perhaps  most  notably  in  Malakoff,  with 
whom,  none  the  less,  he  was  on  the  best  terms 
in  the  world  and  to  whom  not  infrequently 
he  complained  when  the  third  party  of  this 
unholy  trinity  became,  as  she  often  did 
become,  particularly  waspish.  For  the  lady, 
imperious  to  Oppensheim,  was  wax  in  the 
hands  of  Malakoff,  whom  she  loved  with  a 
love  that  was  at  once  violent,  sensual  and 
tender. 

On  this  evening,  after  leaving  the 
Kandys',  he  told  her  of  his  venture. 

"It  is  not  the  Peru,"  she  swiftly  summa 
rised,  when  he  had  cited  the  dower.  "Enfin !" 
she  consoling  continued,  "you  might  have 
done  worse.  Besides,  in  marrying  an  Ameri- 


SALLY'S   DUKE  61 

can,  there  can  be  no  question  of  mesal 
liance." 

That  sentiment  her  race  dictated.  Oddly, 
it  had  never  reproached  her  with  the  left- 
handed  mesalliance  that  she  had  contracted 
with  this  man,  whose  grandfather  had  been  a 
cheesemonger.  But  love  has  its  own  exten 
uations.  Moreover,  while,  from  the  stand 
point  of  the  old  nobility,  Malakoff  was  no 
body,  he  yet  managed  to  appear  as  though 
the  spirit  of  that  nobility  were  incarnated  in 
him. 

"Tell  me,"  Mme.  Oppensheim  continued. 
"In  appearance  is  she  better  than  I?" 

Is  the  lily  fairer  than  the  rose?  Sally  had 
the  ephemeral  charm  of  the  former.  She  was 
a  book  bound  in  muslin,  with  all  the  pages 
blank.  What  time  and  fate  would  scrawl 
there,  fate  and  time  would  tell.  As  yet  they 
were  white.  As  yet  the  girl  was  a  lily. 
Mme.  Oppensheim  was  the  rose,  large, 
colourful,  majestic. 


62  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

At  the  question,  Malakoff  looked  at  her. 
Her  eyes,  like  his  own,  were  dark.  There 
the  resemblance  ended.  For  while  he  was  al 
most  typically  Latin,  the  fainter  umber  of 
her  skin,  and  the  rich  orange  of  her  hair, 
suggested  an  alien  race.  It  had  been  said 
that  she  was  the  souvenir  of  a  caprice  which 
her  mother  had  entertained  for  an  Austrian 
prince,  and  as,  at  the  question,  Malakoff 
looked  at  her,  he  recalled  the  story. 

"Bah!"  he  replied. 

The  exclamation  sufficed.  Besides,  Mme. 
Oppensheim  was  otherwise  assured.  Be 
tween  Malakoff  and  herself  subsisted  what 
is  called  the  collage,  that  glueing  of  two  na 
tures  together  which  is  the  result  of  a  long 
liaison  and  which,  when  effected,  is  the  strong 
est  of  life's  fragile  ties.  The  lady  was,  there 
fore,  unvisited  by  any  vulgar  sense  of  jeal 
ousy.  In  addition,  in  spite  of  the  collage,  or 
more  precisely,  because  of  it,  it  was  necessary 
that  Malakoff  should  establish  himself  in  a 


SALLY'S   DUKE  63 

manner  befitting  his  rank.  The  anterior 
misadventures  of  the  steeplechase  had  dis 
appointed  her  almost  as  thoroughly  as  they 
had  him. 

"Very  good,"  she  resumed.  "I  will  call 
on  her  to-morrow." 

Around  the  corner,  meanwhile,  the  poetry 
of  the  engagement  was  also  being  discussed. 

"Of  course,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Kandy  re 
marked,  "some  mothers  prefer  Englishmen 
for  their  daughters,  but  where  can  they  get 
a  duke?" 

Meditatively  Sally  helped  herself  from  a 
sac  of  bon-bons.  "I  don't  see,"  she  replied, 
"why  they  should  want  one  at  all." 

Mrs.  Kandy  waved  her  lorgnette.  "That 
only  shows  how  foolish  you  are.  A  duke 
makes  a  duchess,  and  wherever  a  duchess 
goes  she  is  It." 

"And  I  don't  love  him." 

"On  such  a  short  acquaintance  it  would  be 
most  improper  if  you  did.  For  that  matter, 


64  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

when  I  married  your  father,  I  did  not  love 
him,  either,  but  I  admired  him,  and  any  girl 
can  admire  a  duke." 

Sally  shook  her  head.  She  was  thinking 
of  the  man  with  laughing  eyes.  Thinking, 
too,  of  his  attentions  to  Maud  Barhyte,  a 
New  York  girl  whom  she  also  knew,  and 
whom  she  envied  greatly. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered  at  last. 

"But  I  do,"  retorted  Mrs.  Kandy.  "Now 
ring  for  Perkins  and  go  to  bed." 

Sally  did  ring.  A  wooden-faced  maid 
appeared.  Later,  when  the  woman  was 
brushing  the  girl's  hair,  Sally  said  to 
her: 

"I  am  engaged  to  a  duke." 

"Yes,  mem." 

Had  Sally  said  she  was  engaged  to  a  bab 
oon,  the  reply  would  have  been  the  same. 
Perkins  knew  her  business.  It  was  not  for 
her  to  manifest  any  interest  in  anything  con 
cerning  her  employers.  It  was  for  her  to 


SALLY'S    DUKE  65 

attend  to  her  duties.  She  did  attend  to  them, 
and  attended  to  them  well. 

"But  I  will  keep  you,  Perkins." 

"Thank  you,  mem." 

The  brushing  continued.  Presently  Per 
kins  said:  "If  you  please,  mem,  I'm  to  be 
married  too." 

In  the  mirror  before  her  Sally  looked  at 
the  woman  in  whose  face  there  was  not  a 
vestige  of  expression. 

"His  name  is  'Arris,  mem.  He's  butler 
and  valet,  mem,  and  been  only  in  the  best 


'ouses." 


"Harris!"  Sally  repeated.  "Well,  per 
haps,  I  may  take  him  when  I  have  a  house 
of  my  own,  but  you  will  be  Perkins  just  the 


same." 


"Thank  you,  mem." 

Such  was  Sally's  wooing.  The  marriage 
was  equally  enchanting. 

Before  it  occurred,  Malakoff,  apprised  by 
his  avoue  of  the  terms  of  Sam  Kandy's  will, 


66  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

laughed.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  laugh.  Had 
Mrs.  Kandy  seen  him  at  that  moment,  she 
would  have  been  alarmed.  Could  she  have 
read  his  thoughts,  she  would  have  known 
that  her  alarm  was  justified. 

There  was  the  Due  de  Chose,  who  had 
bagged  the  booty  of  despoiled  Venezuela; 
de  la  Deche,  who  had  got  the  loot  of  the 
wreckage  of  the  railways  of  the  United 
States;  Prince  Eugene,  the  most  obscure  of 
the  obscurest  Napoleonides,  who  had  gob 
bled  the  heiress  of  Monte  Carlo's  perfumed 
hell;  Solferino,  who  had  pocketed  the  prize 
American  dot;  d'Ostende,  who  had  received 
with  his  bride  a  ton  of  brewery  guineas ;  and 
he,  Malakoff,  who  was  as  good  as  any  of 
them,  was  done,  done  again,  and  out  a  beg 
garly  million  at  that! 

He  could  still  desist,  and  would  have,  but 
an  idea  occurred  to  him.  It  was  then  that  he 
laughed. 

In  accordance  with  local  usage,  the  civil 


SALLY'S    DUKE  67 

ceremony,  which  precedes  the  religious  rites, 
took  place  at  the  Mairie  of  the  precinct  in 
which  Malakoff  resided.  The  formalities, 
brief  in  themselves,  became  exasperating  by 
reason  of  a  long  delay  which  intervened. 

Afterward,  at  the  Elysee  Hotel,  Malakoff 
requested  a  word  with  Mrs.  Kandy. 

"Madam,"  he  began,  when  Sally  had 
gone,  "in  asking  the  hand  of  your  daughter, 
I  said  it  was  not  merely  that  I  might  have  her 
for  wife,  but  in  order,  also,  that  I  might  have 
you  for  mother-in-law.  Do  you  recall  it?" 

Mrs.  Kandy,  laced  to  the  point  of  suf 
focation,  wished  that  he  would  hurry  and 
go.  But,  manfully,  from  a  red  and  gilt 
armchair  in  which  she  squirmed,  she 
smiled. 

"I  do,  indeed.  I  thought  it  very  gracious." 

Malakoff  smiled  also — that  smile  in  which 
the  eyes  have  no  part,  and  which  consists  in 
showing  the  teeth. 

"You  are  most  amiable.    But  at  the  time 


68  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

I  hardly  supposed  you  would  leave  me  in 
the  cold." 

"In  the  cold!"  Mrs.  Kandy,  shifting  un 
easily,  repeated. 

"In  the  street,  if  you  prefer.  For  that  is 
what  it  amounts  to.  You  told  me  that  your 
daughter  has  a  million.  It  is  true.  But  the 
income  only.  That  is  insufficient." 

Mrs.  Kandy  raised  her  lorgnette.  "But 
you  knew  this  before.  Mr.  Ridgeway — " 

Malakoff  bowed.  "That  is  also  true. 
This  Ridgeway,  your  lawyer,  acquainted  my 
man  of  business  with  the  facts.  But  enam 
oured  as  I  was,  and  am  of  your  daughter,  I 
did  not  sufficiently  consider  them.  This 
morning,  during  the  delay  which  I  regret 
you  should  have  experienced  at  the  Mairie, 
I  had  the  fullest  opportunity  to  do  so,  and 
I  have  concluded  to  proceed  no  further." 

"What!" 

Malakoff  plucked  at  his  beard.  "I  have 
concluded  not  to  marry  your  daughter." 


SALLY'S    DUKE  69 

At  the  outrageousness  of  that,  Mrs.  Kan- 
dy  forgot  her  stays.  She  realised  only  that 
she  was  the  mother  of  a  duchess,  the  potential 
grandmother  of  a  prince,  and  dismissing 
grammar,  she  cried:  "But  you  are;  you 
have." 

Malakoff  looked  at  her  much  as  though 
she  were  a  wriggling  worm,  and  it  was  with 
utter  indifference  to  her  anguish  that  he  an 
swered:  "Not  by  the  Church,  and  in  my 
world  it  is  only  the  religious  ceremony  that 
counts." 

"And  you  mean  to  say!"  Mrs.  Kandy 
screamed.  Then,  English  failing,  she  soared 
into  French.  "Mais,  c'est  indigne!  You 
leave  my  child  neither  fish,  flesh  nor  fowl." 

Malakoff  caught  the  statement  and  with 
a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  tossed  it  back. 

"It  is  only  what  you  leave  me.  In  the 
Americas,  I  am  aware,  matters  arrange 
themselves  otherwise.  There  a  man  may 
work.  I  believe  a  man  is  even  expected  to. 


70  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Here  it  is  different.  A  man,  such  as  I  am 
at  least,  not  only  is  not  expected  to  work, 
but  would  not  be  tolerated  if  he  tried.  Im 
agine  to  yourself  the  Due  de  Malakoff,  gro 
cer,  stockbroker  even!  Alors,  quoi?" 

From  purple,  Mrs.  Kandy  turned  livid. 

"I  shall  appeal  to  the  embassy.  I  will 
send  for  my  lawyer!" 

Malakoff  took  up  his  hat.  "I  earnestly 
recommend  you  to  do  both.  Meanwhile 
favour  me  by  conveying  my  homage  to 
your  daughter.  I  have  had  the  honour  to  bid 
you  good-day." 

But  when  he  had  gone,  and  Mrs.  Kandy 
had  loosened  her  stays,  she  felt  better  and 
thought  better,  at  least  of  one  of  her  threats. 
The  embassy  could  do  nothing.  To  appeal 
there  would  be  but  to  bill  the  whole  ridicu 
lous  story  to  all  the  cynical  world.  She 
telephoned  instead  to  Ridgeway,  who  shortly 
was  announced. 

Mr.  Ridgeway's  mouth  was  full  of  gold 


SALLY'S   DUKE  7! 

teeth.  While  listening  to  her  tale,  he  exhib 
ited  them  very  freely.  He  was  thinking 
what  an  amazing  fool  she  was. 

"Of  course/'  he  said  at  last,  placing  as  he 
spoke  a  forefinger  in  the  middle  of  his  fore 
head,  "the  marriage  has  not  been  consumma 
ted,  and  an  action  to  nullify  the  contract  can 
be  brought.     Even  otherwise,  the  attitude 
of  this  gentleman  has  been  foreseen.     It 
constitutes  what  the  Code  terms  a  sevice 
grave,  and  a  divorce  can  be  had.    But  any 
proceedings    in    the    matter   will    cause    a 
scandal,    one   that   unfortunately   will    re 
flect     on     your     daughter.       Now    it     is 
evident  that  this  gentleman  wants  money. 
They  all  do,  the  majority  of  the  aristos 
that    is,    and    they    rarely    marry    unless 
they   get   it.      My   advice   is,    give   it   to 
him.    Probably  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
will  suffice.     I  will  see  his  avoue  and  let 
you  know." 

"It  is  outrageous,"  said  Mrs.  Kandy,  snif- 


72  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

fling  and  snuffing  at  a  vinaigrette.  "No 
lady  was  ever  so  treated." 

Mrs.  Kandy  was  then  in  a  loose  flowing 
robe,  tenderly  pink,  which  lace  befluttered. 
In  spite  of  her  plaint,  she  felt  better. 

The  relief  was  transient.  Mr.  Bidgeway 
on  visiting  Malakoff 's  attorney  found  that  a 
hundred  thousand  was  a  mere  fraction  of  the 
amount  required.  Malakoff  demanded  five 
million  francs. 

When  these  figures  were  recited  to  Mrs. 
Kandy,  instantly  the  woman  in  that  tender 
gown  was  ousted  by  a  female.  She  grimaced 
queerly.  Epilepsy  of  the  epiglottis  attacked 
her.  Instead  of  employing  the  language  of 
the  ornate,  she  dropped  into  that  of  the  fish 
wife. 

"Pay  a  man  a  million  dollars  to  sleep  with 
my  daughter!  Never!" 

Never  is  a  long  word.  Before  the  inter 
view  was  concluded,  she  decided  to  do 
so. 


SALLY'S    DUKE  73 

"I  am  ruining  myself,"  she  sobbed. 

"It  is  very  noble  of  you,"  said  Mr.  Ridge- 
way,  who,  for  that  remark  of  his,  and  for 
that  other  of  hers,  charged  extra. 


n 

A  LITTLE  TOKEN 

When  the  five  million  francs  had  been  paid 
and  Sally  Kandy  became  definitely  Sally 
Malakoff,  an  act  interrelated  with  the  drama 
of  her  life  was  occurring  in  New  York. 

There  in  the  library  of  a  large  house,  situ 
ated  in  that  part  of  Madison  avenue,  which, 
with  Gramercy  Park,  still  represents  what 
residential  New  York  used  to  be,  a  man  was 
talking  to  a  girl. 

The  man  was  Welden,  the  girl  was  Maud 
Barhyte.  She  was  standing.  He  was  seat 
ed. 

Beside  him  was  a  table  on  which  was  an 
Oxford  edition,  in  Greek,  of  the  old  Sicilian 
poets.  At  the  moment,  it  was  the  only  book 
that  the  library  contained.  Opposite  was  a 


A   LITTLE    TOKEN  75 

mantel,  above  it,  a  mirror.  To  the  right  was 
a  piano,  at  the  left  a  sofa.  On  the  walls  were 
pictures  of  former  Barhytes,  women  with 
pointed  bodices  and  powdered  hair;  men  in 
vermilion  with  swords  and  lace  jabots.  In 
addition  to  the  book,  the  table  had  on  it  a 
buvard,  an  elaborate  service  for  writing,  and 
a  jewelled  bag  of  gold  mesh,  which  the  girl 
had  put  down. 

A  little  before,  letting  herself  in  with  a 
latch-key,  as  was  her  custom,  she  had  come 
from  a  drive.  She  wore  a  costume  of  light 
cloth,  faintly  blue,  exquisitely  embroidered. 
Beneath  was  silk  and  mousseline  de  soie,  less 
durable,  and  more  costly  than  the  garment. 
On  her  head  was  a  hat  for  which  she  had 
been  charged  eighty  dollars.  She  had  worn 
it  once  before,  and  might  wear  it  once 
again. 

The  girl  was  not  on  that  account  a  fool. 
She  read  Plato  in  the  original,  and  what  is 
less  lovely  and  more  difficult,  she  read  Kant. 


76  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

What  is  unusual,  she  thought;  what  is  ex 
ceptional,  she  meditated;  what  is  remark 
able,  she  prayed. 

She  prayed  that  she  might  do  nothing  that 
should  not  charm,  say  nothing  that  should 
not  please. 

Generally  the  prayer  was  granted,  and 
sometimes  more  fully  than  she  wished.  Men 
on  first  meeting  her  forgot  that  they  were 
conventional  beings,  and  remembered  that 
they  were  men. 

"That  ought  not  to  be  allowed,"  the  wit 
of  a  ball-room  had  remarked,  when  in  shim 
mering  white,  this  girl  had  passed.  For  in 
her  eyes  that  were  violet,  in  the  rich  orange 
of  her  hair,  in  the  contour  of  her  lips,  that 
seemed  meeting  for  love,  in  the  oval  of  her 
perfect  face,  and  in  her  figure  that  pulsated 
with  health  and  with  life,  there  was  a  charm 
too  alluring,  almost  aphrodisiac. 

Of  the  emotions  that  it  aroused,  the  girl 
was  aware.  It  mortified  her  extremely,  and 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  77 

through  her  demeanour  she  tried  to  attenuate 
it.  But  from  her  voice,  which  was  naturally 
low,  she  could  not  always  banish  caresses. 
She  could  not  always  eliminate  the  incan 
descence  from  her  eyes.  The  more  demure 
she  tried  to  appear,  the  more  desirable  she 
became.  Her  prayer  was,  perhaps,  only  too 
fully  granted. 

Now,  on  this  late  mid- April  afternoon, 
there  came  through  the  open  windows  the 
surrenders  of  spring,  and  the  metallic  roar 
of  the  city. 

"If  you  won't  marry  me,  tell  me  why?" 
Welden  was  saying. 

With  that  air  of  being  somebody  which 
certain  New  Yorkers  occasionally  attain,  he 
sat,  supple  and  vigorous,  looking  hungrily 
at  her.  The  hunger,  a  hunger  for  her,  for  a 
year  and  a  day  he  had  tried  to  appease,  but 
hitherto  quite  vainly. 

In  and  about  the  girl's  lips  a  smile  hov 
ered  deliciously. 


78  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Supposing  you  wearied  of  me,  what 
then?" 

Welden  laughed.    "I  never  could." 

The  hovering  smile  fluttered  and  fled. 
"Supposing,  then,  I  wearied  of  you!" 

Welden  laughed  again.    "I  would  not  let 

you." 

To  that,  the  girl,  with  a  movement  of  her 
head,  assented. 

"Perhaps.  But  does  it  not  rather  seem 
that  affection  is  a  thing  which  cannot  be  com 
manded?  It  seems  so  to  me.  It  seems  to 
me  that  it  commands  us.  It  seems  to  me  too, 
that,  the  quantity  being  limited,  some  day  it 
must  give  out.  When  it  does,  love  ends.  No 
effort  can  prevent  it." 

Welden  nodded.  "Some  day,  yes.  But 
a  hundred  years  with  you  would  be  insuffi 
cient  for  me.  I  could  love  you  all  through 
this  life,  and  all  through  another." 

The  smile  which  momentarily  had  gone 
from  the  girl,  rejoined  her. 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  79 

"  'In  seternum  te  adorabo,' "  she  quoted. 
"I  know.  I  have  heard  it  before.  I  have 
heard  it  said  by  people  who,  when  I  next 
heard  of  them,  were  applying  for  a  divorce. 
I  heard  Rivers  swear  it  to  Beatrix  Leroy. 
Where  are  they  now?" 

"In  the  hands  of  their  lawyers,  I  believe." 

"Yet,  almost  the  day  before  yesterday, 
they  were  apparently  mad  about  each  other, 
quite  as  much  as  we  are,  and  probably  more. 
Now,  as  you  put  it,  they  are  in  the  hands  of 
their  lawyers.  Then  there  are,  or  were,  the 
Cottings,  the  Colvilles,  the  Methuens,  the 
Lennox  Joneses.  Where  are  they?" 

"In  the  same  box,  I  suppose.  But  what 
of  it?  What  have  their  various  deviltries  to 
do  with  us?" 

"Everything.  We  might  get  in  the  same 
box  ourselves." 

"Ce  n'est  pas  la  mer  a  boire,"  Welden 
lapsing  into  French,  as  certain  New  Yorkers 
sometimes  will,  replied. 


80  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Again  the  girl  assented.  "For  a  man, 
certainly  not.  But  for  a  woman,  it  rather 
proclaims  the  fact  that  she  has  put  her  love 
and  life  into  the  hands  of  an  individual  who 
has  destroyed  the  one  and  ruined  the  other. 
Women  endure  much,  and  I  could  endure 
that  on  condition,  however,  that  I  alone  were 
aware  of  it.  But,  to  have  it  known,  printed, 
discussed;  to  have  my  private  misfortunes 
public  property,  no,  I  would  rather — " 

The  girl  hesitated  as  though  at  loss  for  a 
simile.  Before  she  could  find  one,  provided, 
that  is,  she  wanted  to,  Welden  cut  in. 

"But,  Maud,  are  you  not  putting  the  til 
bury  before  the  tandem?  That  people  do 
get  divorces  is  obvious  and  in  the  majority 
of  cases  the  reason  is  obvious  also.  Men 
here,  as  a  rule,  marry  too  young.  They  mar 
ry  because  they  cannot  decently  get  the  girl 
otherwise,  and  as  they  afterward  discover, 
it  is  not  the  girl,  but  a  girl  that  they  have  got. 
To  me,  you  are  not  a  girl;  you  are  the 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  81 

girl,  the  one  girl  in  the  whole  wide  world." 
Maud  looked  the  matter  over  as  it  reached 
her,  and  indicated  the  flaw  in  it  with  a  smile. 
"We  are  taught  that  experience  teaches, 
and  I  may  suppose  that  you  have  had  yours, 
many  experiences,  I  dare  say.  In  that  case, 
you  have  had  a  liberal  education,  which  I 
have  lacked.  Your  experiences  have  quali 
fied  you  as  an  expert,  and  it  is  as  such  that 
you  are  able  to  decide  that  I  am  the  one  girl 
in  the  world  for  you.  That  is  very  gratify 
ing.  But  what  is  there  to  enable  me  to  deter 
mine  that  you  are  the  one  man?  You  may 
be.  Probably  you  are.  But  how  can  I  tell? 
How  can  I?" 

Sagaciously    Welden    answered:      "Try 


me." 


Maud  turned  away,  and  with  her  two 
hands  made  a  pass  in  the  air.  It  was  as 
though  in  some  rite  known  but  to  herself, 
she  were  interrogating  the  invisible  lap  of 
the  indifferent  gods. 


82  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Then,  looking  suddenly  at  him,  she  ex 
claimed:  "I  have  a  great  mind  to." 

In  spite  of  a  gesture  meant  to  stay  him, 
Welden  sprang  at  the  girl,  caught  her  in 
his  arms,  and  pressing  his  lips  to  hers-,  so 
hent  her  with  the  embrace,  that  she  fell  back 
ward  on  the  sofa. 

At  once,  freeing  herself,  she  pushed  him 
away. 

"Oblige  me  by  sitting  where  you  were." 

As  she  spoke,  she  went  to  the  mirror,  re 
adjusted  her  hat,  patted  her  frock.  These 
operations  concluded,  she  turned  again. 

"We  may  as  well  say  that  we  are  engaged. 
In  that  manner  we  can  be  together  whenever 
we  like.  Come  to  dinner  to-morrow.  I  will 
speak  to  my  father  to-night,you  can  speak  to 
him  then." 

She  moved  back.  "Don't  kiss  me  here. 
Don't.  Now  you  must  go.  I  have  to  dress." 

Welden  passed  from  the  library  into  a 
reception  room  which  adjoined  it,  and  from 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  83 

there  to  the  marble  flagging  of  the  hall. 

Near  the  entrance  stood  a  man,  an  old 
family  servant  who  had  known  Welden 
throughout  the  year  and  the  day  of  the  siege 
and  who  now  handed  him  his  hat  and  stick. 

Welden,  considering  him  with  laughing 
eyes,  fumbled  in  his  waistcoat  and  said: 

"William,  put  that  in  your  pocket  and 
don't  be  surprised  if  you  hear  any  news." 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Thank  you,  Mr.  Wel 
den,"  the  man  answered  knowingly.  "I 
shan't  be  surprised;  no,  sir." 

Opening  the  door,  he  held  it  open  until 
Welden  reached  the  street. 

That  night,  when  some  guests  had  gone, 
Maud  spoke,  as  she  said  she  would  speak,  to 
her  father.  They  were  in  the  drawing-room 
which,  after  a  New  York  fashion  of  long 
ago,  was  frescoed,  furnished  in  yellow  and 
black,  fitted'with  enormous  mirrors  and  with 
chandeliers  almost  as  big,  equally  ancient. 

"I  am  engaged  to  Gerard  Welden." 


84  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

General  Barhyte,  who  had  taken  up  an 
evening  paper,  put  it  down  and  removed  his 
glasses.  He  had  bushy  white  hair,  a  white 
cavalry  moustache,  and  a  fierce  red  face 
which  suddenly  could  become  indulgent. 

It  became  so  then.  The  Weldens  had 
been  identified  with  New  York  as  long  as 
the  Barhytes,  possibly  longer.  Welden  him 
self  represented  all  that  was  locally  desirable 
in  addition  to  the  fact  that  he  was  personally 
agreeable,  pleasant  to  the  eye,  liked  by  men, 
admired  by  women,  a  man  of  means,  an 
M.  F.  H.,  President  of  the  Swordsmen  Club. 

These  items  considered,  the  general  re 
placed  his  glasses  and  looked  up  at  his 
daughter. 

"He  is  not  in  business,  is  he?" 

Maud,  who  had  been  standing,  seated  her 
self  on  an  S  in  upholstery. 

"Well?    And  you?    You  are  not  either." 

For  a  moment  the  general  considered  the 
point.  "That's  another  story.  I  think  now- 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  85 

adays  a  man  should  have  some  occupation." 

Maud  smiled,  displaying  the  nacre  of  her 
teeth.  "So  do  I.  He  will  have  me.  It  will 
be  enough  for  him." 

"Or  for  anybody,"  laughed  the  general. 
"When  is  it  to  be?" 

"When  is  what  to  be?" 

"Why,  God  bless  my  soul,  the  wedding, 
of  course." 

From  under  the  girl's  skirt  a  white  slip 
per,  butterflied  with  gold,  moved  in  and  out. 

"Oh,  not  for  a  long  time  yet." 

"Why?" 

"Because." 

The  general  laughed  again.  "That  is  the 
best  reason  in  the  world.  Well,  puss,  you 
have  my  consent  and  your  mother's  money. 
You  have  been  a  good  girl  and  I  hope  to  God 
that  you  will  be  happy.  He  means  to  say  a 
word  to  me,  doesn't  he?" 

Maud  stood  up.  "To-morrow.  I  have 
asked  him  to  dinner." 


86  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

General  Barhyte,  gathering  again  the 
evening  paper,  nodded.  The  match  was 
everything  he  could  wish.  The  more  he  con 
sidered  it,  the  more  he  was  pleased. 

The  following  evening,  when  Maud  had 
left  the  table  and  Welden  had  said  the  prom 
ised  word,  that  pleasure  he  expressed. 

"I  hope,"  he  added,  "that  after  you  are 
married  you  will  be  willing  to  live  here. 
Why,  God  bless  my  soul,  the  house  is  big 
enough  for  a  dozen  of  you.  I  always  break 
fast  in  my  rooms,  usually  I  have  luncheon  at 
the  Athenaeum,  and  I  have  always  wanted 
to  dine  there." 

"You  are  very  kind,  General,"  Welden, 
sitting,  smiling  and  supple,  before  him,  re 
plied.  "Personally  I  shall  like  nothing  bet 
ter,  particularly  as  my  own  house  has  gone 
the  way  the  rest  of  New  York  will  go — en 
gulfed  by  office  buildings  and  department 
stores." 

"Yes,  yes.    They  are  making  the  town  im- 


A    LITTLE    TOKEN  87 

possible.  God  bless  my  soul,  if  I  did  not 
know  better,  I  should  think  I  was  in  Chi 
cago.  But  there  is  Maud  looking  in.  Don't 
let  me  detain  you." 

Welden  stood  up,  shook  hands  with  the 
old  gentleman,  thanked  him  again,  and  fol 
lowed  the  girl  into  the  faded  splendours  of 
the  drawing-room. 

"I  have  something  for  you,"  she  an 
nounced. 

From  a  little  box  she  took  a  sapphire,  flat 
and  oblong.  About  it  was  a  thin  gold  band 
and  at  one  end  a  clasp.  On  the  band  was 
engraved:  Aultre  n'auray. 

"  'None  but  you,' "  she  translated  as  he 
examined  the  device  which,  long  ago,  a  girl 
wove  for  a  king. 

"Now,"  she  resumed,  "if  you  will  put  that 
on  the  stem  of  your  watch,  it  will  not  be  of 
fensive,  will  it?" 

"On  the  contrary.    But  how  odd!" 

"I  meant  it  to  be.    It  is  a  token  between 


88  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

us.  If  you  ever  change  your  mind,  do  not 
let  me  see  that  you  have  and  do  not  tell  me. 
Send  this  to  me." 

"It  will  go  with  me  to  my  grave,"  Welden 
answered. 

Drawing  her  to  him,  he  kissed  her,  longly 
at  first,  then  so  penetratingly  that  the  least 
pulses  of  her  being  shook. 

Slowly,  in  her  low,  caressing  voice,  the  girl 
said  to  him:  "Dearest,  I  adore  you." 


Ill 


A  LITTLE  LOVE 

In  the  way  we  live  now,  the  income  de 
rived  from  two  million  dollars  is  better  than 
nothing,  but,  for  a  duke  and  a  duchess,  it  is 
little  more.  Yet  in  Paris,  provided  one 
know,  money  may  be  made  to  do  double  the 
duty  that  it  can  effect  elsewhere. 

Malakoff  did  know.  The  last  price  of 
anything,  the  real  value  of  no  matter  what, 
he  thoroughly  understood.  It  was  a  boast 
of  his  that  no  one  could  do  him,  and  apart 
from  the  welshings  in  the  steeplechase,  it  is 
probable  that  he  had  never  been  jockeyed  in 
his  life.  On  the  perhaps  meagre  income  he 
succeeded,  consequently,  in  setting  up  an  es 
tablishment  which,  if  not  princely,  was  not 


90  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

bourgeois.  He  succeeded  even  in  setting  up 
two  of  them,  one  at  Deauville  for  the  villeg- 
iatura,  another  for  town  life  in  the  Avenue 
Malakoff — "my  avenue,"  as  he,  with  what 
perhaps  was  pardonable  pride,  described  it. 

The  house  there  or,  to  speak  French,  the 
hotel,  had  been  obtained  at  a  rental  relative 
ly  low.  Situated  between  court  and  garden, 
it  had  a  vanilla  frontage,  variegated  at  the 
windows  by  a  touch  of  green,  at  the  balcony 
by  another  of  pink,  which  gave  it  vaguely  the 
appearance  of  a  Neapolitan  ice. 

Sally  did  not  take  to  it  nor  did  she  take 
to  her  existence  there.  In  the  unholy  rites  of 
the  marriage,  each  one  of  which  had  set  a 
separate  mark  upon  her,  she  felt  cheated  of 
her  girlhood  and,  in  this  house,  she  felt 
cheated,  too,  of  happiness  and  love.  Many 
are  without  suspecting  it,  many  others  cheat 
themselves.  But  Sally  had  been  thrown 
blindfolded  into  the  arms  of  a  man  who  did 
not  care  for  her,  who  did  not  want  to  care 


A   LITTLE    LOVE  91 

for  her,  and  she  had  been  so  thrown  for  no 
other  earthly  reason  than  that  a  stupid 
woman  might  be  related  to  a  duke.  Sally 
hated  her  mother  for  it  with  a  hatred  which 
equalled,  when  it  did  not  exceed,  the  loathing 
which  she  felt  for  her  husband. 

Ordinarily  the  results  of  a  husband's  in- 
considerateness  are  but  temporary.  Given 
but  time  and  the  bride  forgets  and  forgives, 
and  Sally,  who  was  not  only  shallow,  but, 
like  all  shallow  people,  impulsive,  might 
have  ended  by  loving  the  man  whom  she 
loathed,  had  not  his  inconsiderateness  been 
succeeded  by  defection.  Barely  a  wife,  she 
ceased  to  be  one,  and  that,  while  distinctly 
a  blessing,  aborted  the  possibility  of  any 
thing  further  between  them,  anything,  that 
is,  except  indifference  on  his  part  and  an 
tipathy  on  hers. 

Her  thoughts  at  this  time  were  not,  there 
fore,  very  gay,  and  their  lack  of  gaiety  was 
complicated  by  the  fact  that  she  had  not 


92  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

many  of  them.  But  she  found  compensa 
tions,  among  these  a  curious  one  in  Mme. 
Oppensheim,  who,  for  obvious  reasons,  had 
determined  that  Sally  should  like  her,  and 
who  succeeded  in  that  which,  other  things 
being  equal,  would  have  been  an  impossible 
task.  Sally  did  like  her,  or  perhaps  it  will 
be  more  exact  to  say  that  she  relished  the  at 
tentions  shown  her  by  this  woman  of  the 
world,  who,  not  content  with  being  merely 
gracious  to  an  inexperienced  American,  took 
the  trouble  to  form  her,  to  teach  her  the  tone, 
the  ways  and  manners  of  the  Parisian,  in 
particular  that  desir  de  plaire  which  gives  to 
the  speech  and  bearing  of  the  mondaine  her 
untranslatable  charm. 

Sally  at  first  was  necessarily  unaware  of 
the  relations  that  existed  between  this  woman 
and  Malakoff.  When  she  was  better  in 
formed,  as  she  promptly  became,  she  felt 
grateful  to  her  for  standing  between  them. 

The  gratitude  was  very  feline.     Though 


rA    LITTLE    LOVE  93 

Sally  purred,  she  could  scratch.  But  mean 
while  discovering,  moreover,  as  she  also  did, 
that  in  the  special  world  in  which  she  moved, 
the  situation,  far  from  being  exceptional, 
was  the  reverse,  she  felt  not  merely  grateful 
but  Parisian,  and  in  that  state  of  advance 
ment,  dispensed  both  with  the  sense  of  dig 
nity  which  should  be  natural  to  the  married 
woman,  and  with  the  sense  of  morality  which 
usually  is  instinctive  in  the  young. 

Incidentally  it  amused  her  to  be  duchess. 
She  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  her  mother.  She 
liked  to  drive  without  her,  and  view  land 
scapes  of  modes.  Moreover,  in  the  Avenue 
Malakoff,  she  received  detachments  from 
what  is  called  All-Paris — the  glittering  and 
rakish  ship  of  fashion,  in  which  the  distaff- 
side  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain  does 
not  always  deign  to  sail.  But  though  the 
feminine  portion  of  the  old  nobility  has  its 
reserves,  the  men  are  less  punctilious  and 
even  otherwise  there  are  always  others  quite 


94  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

as  agreeable  and  frequently  more  so,  the 
cosmopolitan  leaders  of  life  and  sport,  who 
nowhere  else  are  as  enterprising.  Of  these, 
many  made  up  to  her,  a  circumstance  of 
which,  quaintly  enough,  she  complained  to 
Mme.  Oppensheim. 

"But,  ma  toute  belle,"  the  latter  remon 
strated.  "When  a  man  delays  more  than 
fifteen  minutes  in  making  up  to  me,  I  regard 
him  as  insulting." 

"You  are  so  beautiful,"  Sally  replied. 
But  she  thought  her  simply  fantastic,  and 
that  not  through  any  straight-lacedness,  but 
because  she  did  not  yet  understand  how  a 
woman  can  permit  any  man,  save  the  man 
of  all  men,  to  attempt  an  approach  however 
circuitous,  to  the  heart's  tender  places.  In 
that  respect,  Malakoff's  treatment  of  her 
had  been  beneficial,  and  while  in  the  anti 
pathy  incited,  it  had  necessarily  failed  to  re 
veal  what  love  may  be,  none  the  less  it  had 
suggested  possibilities  which  were  then  ac- 


A    LITTLE    LOVE  95 

centuated  by  Welden's  presence  in  Paris. 

Prior  to  her  marriage,  she  had  fancied  her 
self  in  love  with  him.  Now,  in  looking  hack, 
she  realised  that  she  had  not  known  the 
meaning  of  the  word.  It  still  held  its  secrets, 
mysteries  unrevealed,  the  esoteric  love  of  a 
doctrine  which  only  life  can  impart,  only  life 
and  a  lover.  But  the  latter  term  had  also  its 
shadings,  between  which  Sally  wavered,  not 
through  any  loyalty  to  Malakoff,  she  owed 
him  none;  nor  through  any  loyalty  to  her 
self,  she  was  unaware  that  she  owed  any,  but 
because  Welden  was  an  inaccessible  person. 

At  a  five-o'clock  in  that  amiable  region 
which  is  known  as  the  American  colony, 
Sally  made  him  such  little  tentative  advan 
ces  as  a  woman  may.  Agilely  he  extracted 
himself  from  her  ambuscades.  Ordinarily, 
he  might  have  stormed  them.  That  would 
have  been  only  civil.  But  what  ordinarily 
would  have  been  civil,  in  this  instance,  would 
have  been  base.  He  was  bound  by  bonds 


96  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

that  to  certain  natures  are  the  strongest  of 
all.  Apart  from  which  he  had  no  desire  to 
encourage  Sally.  Maud  left  him  none. 

A  fortnight  after  the  episode  of  the  little 
token,  the  girl  and  her  father  sailed  for  Paris. 
Welden  accompanied  them  and  it  was  in 
Paris  that  the  consummation  of  the  agree 
ment  occurred. 

Previously  the  matter  was  somewhat  de 
bated.  Maud  Barhyte  knew  many  things, 
among  others,  that  once  upon  a  time  it  had 
been  heretical  to  think,  heretical,  also,  to  love. 
She  knew,  furthermore,  that  since  then  prog 
ress  had  liberated  thought  without,  however, 
completely  emancipating  the  heart.  But, 
she  had  argued,  the  right  to  think  and  the 
right  to  love  being  both  fundamental  in  hu 
man  nature,  one  is  as  clear  as  the  other,  and 
while,  to  the  bigot,  any  freedom  in  love  may 
be  heretical  still,  none  the  less,  such  liberty  is 
permissible,  provided  the  appearances  are 
preserved,  and  no  one  else  is  injured. 


A    LITTLE    LOVE  97 

These  views  she  put  before  Welden. 
Their  fallacy  was  patent  to  him.  For  while 
the  whole  moral  value  of  marriage  may  sub 
sist  in  a  union  which  is  contracted  solely  in 
the  consciences  of  those  who  enter  into  it, 
and  while  such  a  union  may  not  only  present 
but  preserve  the  entire  and  eternal  law  of 
Right,  yet,  when  such  a  union  is  contracted 
in  conditions  such  as?  theirs,  there  is  an  in 
jury  to  others.  There  is  an  injury,  though 
it  be  but  potential,  to  the  unborn.  There  is 
a  further  injury,  and  a  grave  one,  to  the 
woman,  often,  also,  to  the  man.  A  woman 
is  never  completely  woman  except  in  the 
family,  and  there  can  be  no  family  once 
certain  conventions  are  contravened.  These 
conventions,  which  jurists  did  not  invent,  or 
codes  originate,  are  exterior  to  woman,  su 
perior  to  man,  and,  when  disregarded,  inimi 
cal  to  both  of  them. 

But,  though  the  fallacy  of  the  girl's  views 
was  patent  to  Welden,  the  fallacy  of  refut- 


98  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ing  them  was  patent  as  well.  The  rare  gifts 
of  the  gods  should  be  piously  accepted,  never 
refused.  Apart  from  which,  in  the  way  we 
live  now,  men  of  the  world  do  not  recite 
moral  maxims  after  the  manner  of  Confu 
cius.  Welden  was  too  modern  for  that,  and 
incidentally  too  hungry.  But  he  saved  his 
conscience. 

"Your  views,"  he  declared,  "are  as  ador 
able  as  they  are  advanced;  but  they  would 
be  still  more  adorable  were  they  antiquated 
enough  to  induce  you  to  marry  me." 

"Dearest,"  she  replied,  "have  we  not  been 
all  over  that?" 

They  had  indeed.  At  the  time  they  were 
in  New  York.  In  the  after  joy  which  love 
and  life  in  Paris  brought,  neither,  between 
them,  could  have  discovered  a  regret,  the 
vain  desire  merely  that  it  should  never  end, 
never!  and  in  a  world  where  all  things  must 
and  do. 

Meanwhile  felicity  was  theirs,  one  so  full, 


A    LITTLE    LOVE  99 

so  absorbing,  so  intense  and  eager  that  some 
times  from  their  commingled  breath,  rose  the 
deceiving  image  of  felicities  larger  and  more 
fair.  Sometimes,  from  the  fountain  of  de 
light,  a  clear  jet  falling  in  drizzling  sheaves, 
shook  stars  in  their  eyes  and  ears.  Some 
times  the  pulsations  of  love  swept  over  them 
like  tides.  Sometimes  the  waters  lifted  them, 
sank  them,  lowered  them  deeper,  caught,  car 
ried  and  drifted  them,  hour  long,  unap- 
peasably,  from  night  to  dawn.  Once, 
from  the  mysterious  affinities  that  similar- 
ise  the  flesh  and  spirit,  a  fear  seemed  to 
mount  and  warn  of  a  catastrophe  unknown, 
yet  near. 

The  latter  impression,  wholly  momentary 
and  immediately  forgot,  came  later.  At  the 
time  being,  their  clear  sky  was  cloudless.  In 
termediately,  for  general  convenience,  they 
were  but  another  engaged  couple,  and  it 
was  by  the  simple  expedient  of  announcing 
the  engagement  that  Welden,  at  a  five- 


100          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

o'clock  in  the  Avenue  Marceau,  extricated 
himself  from  Sally's  ambuscades. 

"To  Maud  Barhyte!"  exclaimed  Sally, 
who  certainly  took  her  defeat  very  well,  "how 
perfectly  dear!  I  was  thinking  of  her  only 
the  other  day." 

Sally,  like  her  mother,  sometimes  spoke 
truly.  In  this  instance,  what  she  said  was 
exact.  She  had  been  thinking  of  a  resem 
blance  that  existed  between  Mme.  Oppen- 
sheim  and  Maud. 

"Where  is  she?"  she  continued.  "And 
where  are  you?  I  want  you  both  to  dinner." 

"Thank  you,"  Welden  replied.  "Maud 
is  at  the  Mirifique,  in  the  rue  de  la  Paix, 
and  I  am  across  the  street." 

"How  nice  and  convenient  that  is.  Well, 
tell  her  with  my  love,  that  I  am  coming  to 
see  her  at  once." 

Sally  smiled  and  nodded  and  turned. 
"Bonjour,  Madame  de  Chose!"  she  said  to 
a  woman.  "Bonjour,  Prince!"  she  repeated 


A    LITTLE    LOVE  101 

to  a  man.  "How  sweet  youU06&vPinkey !" 
she  added  to  a  girl.  "BonjourJ  E^iijjoo.r!" 

Sally  certainly  took  her  defeat  very  well. 
In  the  crowded  salons  of  Mrs.  Cawtree,  her 
hostess,  a  New  Yorker  who  had  lived  so 
long  in  Paris,  that  she  was  unaware  how 
Parisian  New  York  has  become;  in  the  spa 
cious  and  peopled  rooms  she  looked  far  more 
victorious  than  vanquished,  and  incidentally 
very  sweet.  "But  too  animated,"  Mrs.  Caw- 
tree,  to  whom  such  attenuations  were  pleas 
ing,  afterward  declared. 

Welden  fell  back  and  away.  Presently  in 
a  motor-cab  he  was  sailing  down  the  Champs 
Elysees,  and  on  to  the  Cercle  de  TEscrime, 
a  fencing  club,  of  which  he  was  a  member, 
where,  when  in  Paris,  he  usually  went  for 
a  bout  each  day. 

The  bout  served  a  double  purpose.  It 
combined  practice  and  pleasure.  It  did 
more.  It  helped  to  keep  him  in  that  condi 
tion  of  supple  vigour  which  it  is  the  mere 


102          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

duty  'of  ah  idler  and  particularly  of  a  lover 
:to  maintain.  To  this  condition  other  causes 
were  contributory.  He  had  a  hack  for  the 
Bois  and  near  Longchamp  he  kept  a  hunter, 
one  that  he  had  bought,  not  indeed  for  any 
immediate  sport,  but  for  future  runs  on 
Long  Island.  This  horse,  Irish  by  birth, 
and  Blazes  by  name,  was  strong  enough  to 
carry  a  house.  He  had  short  legs,  a  short 
back,  prodigious  quarters,  shoulders  like  the 
top  of  a  haystack,  and  an  impudent  eye. 
He  had  cost  a  pretty  figure,  but  Welden, 
who  knew  as  much  about  horses  as  any  one 
can,  except  a  vet.,  felt  that  he  had  got  him 
cheap,  and  to  his  Longchamp  groom,  a 
middle-aged,  weasel-faced  man,  he  gave 
these  simple  and  sound  instructions :  "Mind 
you,  now,  plenty  of  oats  and  plenty  of 
work." 

On  this  afternoon,  in  the  salle  d'armes, 
he  found,  among  other  members,  Louis  Le 
Hillel,a  Franco- American,  to  whom,  through 


A    LITTLE    LOVE  103 

his  grandmother,  he  was  vaguely  related, 
and  with  whom  he  had  long  been  on  terms 
of  agreeable,  though  not  oppressive,  inti 
macy.  Le  Hillel  had  the  face  of  a  prelate, 
the  manners  of  a  debutante,  and  a  wildcat's 
fearless  agility. 

After  a  bout  with  him,  after  a  shower 
bath,  and  after  dressing  for  the  evening  in 
the  club,  as  is  customary  there,  Welden 
sailed  away  in  another  cab  to  dine  with  Maud 
and  her  father. 

The  Mirifique,  where  they  lodged,  had 
been  considered  smart  in  the  days  of  Bal 
zac's  beaux,  and  that  distinction  it  had  con 
trived  to  maintain.  But  then  it  had  not 
succumbed  to  the  general  teutonising  of  such 
places.  The  management  was  not  German, 
the  servants  were  not  Swiss,  the  chef  was  a 
chef.  Though  situated  on  that  most  cosmo 
politan  of  streets,  which  the  rue  de  la  Paix 
is,  it  remained  really  Parisian.  Guests 
there  were  not  considered  fit  merely  to  be 


104  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

robbed,  but  patrons  to  be  pleased.  Mainly 
these  patrons  were  Russians,  than  which,  in 
the  managerial  eye,  there  is  nothing  superior, 
save  only  those  appertaining  to  some 
grrande  famille  Americaine,  for  that  is  the 
ideal,  and  that  is  what  the  Barhytes  were. 

The  suite  which  they  occupied  was  on 
what  Italians  call  the  noble  floor,  and  which 
the  French,  less  translatably,  describe  as  the 
first  above.  It  gave  on  the  street,  and  con 
sisted  of  a  vestibule,  a  frescoed  salon,  a  tap 
estried  dining-hall,  and  the  usual  sleeping 
rooms.  The  general's  quarters,  and  those  of 
his  daughter,  were  separated  by  the  dining 
room  and  salon.  But  Maud's  had  that  which 
the  general's  lacked,  a  private  entrance.  It 
gave  on  a  stairway  at  the  rear,  and  though 
it  was  supposed  to  be  used  only  by  Maud's 
maid,  Maud  herself  made  use  of  it  when  re 
turning  unduly  from  Welden. 

When  he  entered  that  evening,  there  was 
mounting  from  the  street  its  odour  of  ver- 


A  LITTLE  LOVE  105 

bena  and  absinthe.  Following  that,  were 
the  cries  of  the  hawkers  who  are  never  still. 
Then  at  once  there  was  a  waiter  announcing 
dinner. 

Already  Welden  had  been  greeted  by  the 
general.  For  a  moment  he  had  held  Maud's 
hand  in  his.  Slender,  white  and  very  cool, 
it  burned  him.  The  contour  of  her  figure 
and  her  too  alluring  looks,  burned  him  still 
more.  At  the  pressure  of  his  hand  on  hers, 
she,  too,  must  have  burned.  A  faint  flame 
leaped  to  her  face,  coloured  it  charmingly, 
and  sank  slowly  away. 

"And  where,  may  one  inquire,  have  you 
been?"  she  asked,  with  that  clinging  intona 
tion  of  hers,  which  was  a  caress  in  itself, 
and  which  lent  to  her  simplest  words  the  ef 
fect  of  a  kiss.  "We  rather  fancied  that  we 
should  see  you." 

"So  we  did,"  said  the  general.  "But  din 
ner  appears  to  be  ready.  Welden,  will  you 
take  Maud  out?" 


106          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"I  have  been  talking  to  a  friend  of  yours," 
Welden  presently  remarked,  unfolding,  as 
he  spoke,  a  beautifully  folded  napkin. 
"Sugar  Candy,  she  wants  us  to  dine." 

"That  is  Sam  Kandy's  daughter,  isn't 
it?"  the  general  interjected.  "Let  me  see, 
she  married — " 

"A  very  good  looking  man,  I  hear,"  Maud 
answered.  "Have  you  met  him?"  she  asked, 
turning  to  Welden. 

"That  reminds  me,  Maud,"  the  general 
ran  on.  "At  the  Visitors'  Club  to-day,  a 
Frenchman,  a  painter,  was  introduced  to 
me.  It  appears  that  he  has  seen  you  some 
where.  God  bless  my  soul!  What  an  ex 
travagant  mood  you  put  him  in!  He  wants 
to  paint  your  portrait  and  he  says  that  if  he 
may,  it  will  be  the  clou — what  do  you  call  it 
in  English — the  success?  Yes,  the  success 
of  the  Salon.  A  most  extravagant  chap. 
It  was  Colonel  Floyd  who  introduced  him. 
By  the  way,  Floyd  wants  us  to  go  to  Fras- 


A  LITTLE  LOVE  107 

cati's.  He  is  to  be  there  for  July  and  he 
says — " 

"Frascati's  at  Havre?"  said  Maud. 

"Yes,  where  else  should  it  be?  Now  how 
devilish  good  that  fish  is,  isn't  it?  They  do 
do  you  well  here,  don't  they?  Floyd  says — " 

The  general  rambled  on.  Dishes  perfect 
ly  cooked,  perfectly  served,  succeeded  each 
other.  Coffee  came.  Finally  the  general 
stood  up. 

"Welden,"  he  said,  "don't  let  me  disturb 
you.  Stop  and  keep  Maud  company." 

He  turned  to  the  girl.  "I  have  an  engage 
ment  with  Floyd.  Shall  you  be  up  when  I 
return?" 

"AJh!  that  depends." 

"God  bless  my  soul!  Of  course  it  does. 
I  hardly  believe  I  shall  be  late,  though. 
Good  night,  Welden." 

The  old  gentleman  passed  on  and  out, 
wondering  a  little,  as  he  occasionally  did, 
why,  as  yet,  no  date  had  been  set  for  the 


108          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

wedding.  Had  he  known,  apoplexy  would 
have  seized  him.  But  he  did  not  know,  and 
fortunately  never  learned.  Fortunately  for 
us  all  there  are  mysteries  that  we  never  elu 
cidate.  In  its  inscrutable  ways  the  Inscru 
table  is  beneficent. 


IV 
A  LITTLE  FRISK 

The  multiple  brilliancies  of  the  table  were 
punctuated  by  goblets  which  lackeys  in  silk 
stockings,  knee  breeches  and  the  saffron  liv 
eries  of  the  Malakoffs  replenished  with 
gloved  hands.  A  maitre  d'hotel,  after  pre 
senting  a  sturgeon  from  the  Volga,  was  su 
pervising  its  service.  Through  the  hum  of 
talk,  the  tinkle  of  silver  on  Sevres,  above 
the  glittering  table,  rose  the  rich  voice  of  the 
duke. 

At  his  right  was  Mme.  de  Solferino,  gor 
geous  and  golden.  At  his  left  was  Mme.  de 
Cerisy,  a  massive  brunette,  outwardly  at 
tentive,  but  inwardly  blaspheming.  Next 
to  her  was  de  Dol,  a  sportsman  with  racing 
stables  at  Chantilly.  Farther  down  was 


110          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Welden.  Opposite  de  Dol  was  Aquaviva, 
an  Italian,  master  of  the  Roman  hunt.  At 
his  right  sat  Maud.  Beyond,  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table,  was  Sally,  a  Turkish  legate 
on  one  side,  a  Russian  prince  on  the  other. 

Between  Sally  and  Malakoff,  were  eight 
other  guests,  or  sixteen  in  all,  a  number  rela 
tively  restricted,  but,  afterward,  there  was 
to  be  a  sauterie,  a  little  frisk,  to  which  a 
hundred  more  were  coming. 

Mme.  de  Cerisy,  outwardly  smiling,  but 
inwardly  cursing  her  couturiere,  wore  a  con 
fection  that  matched  her  name.  It  did  not 
do  and  the  consciousness  that  it  did  not  was 
increased  doubly,  first  by  the  glitter  of  Mme. 
de  Solferino,  again  by  the  picture  presented 
by  Maud,  who,  with  the  ivory  of  her  neck 
and  arms,  the  rich  orange  of  her  hair,  her 
incandescent  eyes  and  too  alluring  looks, 
seemed  a  dream  and  a  despair. 

Malakoff,  turning  from  Mme.  de  Cerisy 
to  her,  moistened  his  lips. 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  111 

To  annoy  him,  Mme.  de  Cerisy  remarked: 
"Giselle  Oppensheim  is  not  with  us  to 
night." 

"Unfortunately  no,"  he  answered.  "She 
was  awaited  elsewhere." 

It  was  a  fortnight  after  the  episode  at 
Mrs.  Cawtree's.  On  the  afternoon  that  fol 
lowed  the  little  skirmish,  Sally  called  at  the 
Mirifique,  and  finding  Maud  at  home,  em 
braced  her,  congratulated  her,  and  asked  her 
and  Welden  to  dinner,  an  invitation  which 
she  later  reinforced  hy  another,  begging 
both  to  come  to  her  at  Deauville,  from  the 
third  to  the  tenth  of  July.  The  two  bids  had 
been  jointly  accepted,  and  it  was  in  response 
to  the  first,  that  Maud  and  Welden  were 
then  dining  at  her  house. 

At  the  moment,  Malakoff  was  addressing 
himself  to  Maud.  Welden  could  not  hear 
what  he  said,  but  in  spite  of  intervening  can 
delabra,  he  could  see  the  girl's  face.  She  was 
smiling,  apparently  amused. 


112          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Welden  felt  no  jealousy,  nothing  but  the 
calm  of  invincible  possession,  and,  as  he  ate 
of  farcied  truffles,  which  had  just  been 
served,  and  drank  the  blonde  wine  with 
which  his  glass  was  constantly  replenished, 
he  told  himself  that  in  a  few  hours  the  girl 
would  be  in  his  arms. 

Some  vibration  of  the  thought  must  have 
reached  Sally.  Leaning  forward,  she  called 
at  him. 

"Isn't  she  radiant?  In  New  York  she 
was  exquisite,  here  she  is  exquisite  and  radi 
ant  besides.  What  has  done  it?  Is  it  love? 
Is  it?  Ah,  alors!  Qui  done  m'apprendra 
ce  que  c'est  que  1'amour?" 

With  that,  a  nod  and  a  ripple  of 
laughter,  Sally  turned  to  Cantire,  an 
under  secretary  of  the  British  Em 
bassy,  a  boy  with  pink  cheeks  and  fair 
hair. 

The  dinner  proceeded.  Courses  succeeded 
each  other.  Sweets  came  and  went.  Sol- 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  113 

emnly  the  butler  approached  Sally  and 
muttered  at  her. 

But  Sally,  her  attention  diverted,  had  not 
heard.  Presently  she  looked  up. 

"Well,  Harris,  what  is  it?" 

The  man  muttered  again. 

"On  arrive!"  cried  Sally,  rising.  "The 
others  are  coming!  They  are  here!" 

From  beyond  floated  a  kiss  of  harps 
that  were  marrying  violins  to  the 
strain  of  a  waltz;  Malakoff,  rising 
also,  bent  to  Mme.  de  Solferino,  and, 
her  hand  on  his  arm,  led  the  way 
from  the  brilliant  room,  to  rooms  more 
brilliant. 

In  a  little,  though,  marshalled  by  him, 
Welden,  Cantire,  Aquaviva  and  de  Dol  re 
turned  to  the  table,  where  cigars  and 
liqueurs  were  being  served,  and  where  other 
men  joined  them. 

"Monsieur  Welden,"  Malakoff  caUed 
from  where  he  stood.  "You  know  the  Mar- 


114          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

quis  Aquaviva  de  Santamarta,  the  Comte  de 
Dol  and  M.  Cantire." 

Then  as  the  men  nodded,  collectively  he 
added: 

"Messieurs,  this  gentleman,  a  compatriot 
of  the  duchess,  is  a  renowned  sportsman. 
Should  he  consent  to  enter,  in  all  conscience, 
I  may  say,  have  a  care." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Welden,  hiting  the  end 
from  a  cigar.  "But  enter  what?" 

"A  little  run  over  the  sticks  at  de  Dol's," 
Cantire,  in  English,  replied. 

"Permit  me,"  said  the  count,  approaching. 
He  had  honest  eyes,  a  slight  moustache,  and 
a  careful  manner.  "Monsieur,"  he  con 
tinued  to  Welden,  "at  Chantilly,  I  have  some 
stables,  oh,  nothing  to  speak  of,  but  a  little 
stretch  which  is,  perhaps,  sufficient,  and  these 
gentlemen,  with  Kara  Saraguine,  whom  I 
do  not  see  at  this  moment,  have  been  arrang 
ing  a  hurdle-race  for  the  sixth.  If  now  you, 
monsieur,  will  be  amiable  enough  to  enter, 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  115 

it  will  become  truly  an  international  run. 
Prince  Kara  is  Russian,  the  Marquis 
Aquaviva  is — " 

"I  should  like  nothing  better,"  Welden 
cut  in.  "But  on  the  sixth,  I  have  arranged 
to  be  at  M.  de  Malakoff's." 

"And  most  amiable  it  is  of  you,"  Mala- 
koff  exclaimed.  "I  thank  you  infinitely, 
but—" 

"I  have  also,"  Cantire,  in  English,  inter 
rupted.  "We  can  send  our  horses  to  Chant- 
illy  before  we  go,  and  run  up  from  Deau- 
ville  together." 

"Voyons!"  said  Malakoff.  "Shall  we  not 
talk  French?  De  Dol  does  not  understand, 
or  Aquaviva  either." 

"Pardon,  yes,  a  very  little,"  the  count  soft 
ly  interposed.  Then  lapsing  serenely  into 
French  he  added:  "As  a  baby,  I  studied  it 
with  my  nurse." 

"It  is  arranged  then?"  said  Aquaviva  to 
Welden.  He  had  a  full  beard,  pursed  lips, 


116          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

and  an  air  of  being  very  much  pleased  with 
everything.  "You  will  join  us,  is  it  not  so?" 

Welden,  turning  to  him,  with  his  laughing 
eyes,  nodded.  "Yes,  thanks,  it  ought  to  be 
very  good  fun." 

"Well,  then,  what  would  a  little  cut  at 
baccarat  say  to  you,  messieurs?"  Malakoff 
in  his  rich  voice  inquired.  "Ah!  behold 
Cantire,  who  abandons  us  now." 

For  Cantire,  rightly  preferring  the  nobler 
possibilities  of  captivating  women,  to  the 
more  sordid  chance  of  winning  gold,  was 
then  making  for  the  frisk. 

"A  hundred  louis,"  Malakoff  resumed. 
"It  is  I  who  am  banker.  If  you  please,  this 
way." 

He  motioned  at  a  footman  and  a  door  was 
opened  to  a  f umoir  where  an  oval  table  was 
set,  and  where  presently  Welden,  to  whom 
he  dealt  practically  nothing  but  eights 
and  nines,  relieved  him  of  a  major  portion 
of  the  money. 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  117 

Malakoff  laughed  and  got  up.  "Bah! 
Another  time  it  will  be  my  turn." 

But  now  Aquaviva  took  the  bank.  Other 
men,  drifting  in,  staked  against  him.  Wei- 
den  continued  to  play  and  continued  to  win. 
Meanwhile  Malakoff  had  gone.  De  Dol, 
too,  had  disappeared.  Of  the  original  party 
only  Aquaviva  and  Welden  remained.  Fi 
nally  Welden  himself  stood  up,  and,  guided 
by  the  harps,  entered  the  room  that  served 
for  the  frisk. 

It  was  large  and  luminous.  The  polished 
floor  was  swept  by  trains  undulant  and  glis 
tening.  There  were  black  coats  from  the 
lapels  of  which  hung  clusters  of  minute  dec 
orations;  white  shirts  which  the  broad  rib 
bons  of  higher  orders  enhanced.  Bare  shoul 
ders  and  jewelled  necks  emerged  from  pearl 
embroidered  corsages.  Coils  of  hair,  bitten 
by  combs,  gleamed  with  hereditary  gems. 
There  was  the  sheen  of  silk,  of  diamonds  and 
of  flesh.  There  was,  too,  an  aroma  of  orris 


118          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

and  flowers  which,  while  a  trifle  voluptuous, 
was  also  a  little  heavy.  But  over  it,  ahove 
everything,  there  mounted  that  atmosphere 
which  is  the  marked  characteristic  of  such 
assemblies,  the  vaporisation  of  a  sentiment 
shared  by  all,  that  of  being  among  oneselves, 
and  of  being  thereby  generally  and  solidly 
united  by  nothing  whatever. 

In  the  centre  of  the  room,  couples  were 
turning.  Beyond,  in  a  doorway  that  led  to 
other  salons,  Sally  stood  talking  to  Cantire. 
Opposite,  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  high 
windows  that  descended  to  the  floor,  opened 
on  a  balcony. 

Welden  moved  on.  He  did  not  see  Maud, 
and  in  search  of  her,  he  went  to  the  nearest 
of  these  windows.  In  front  of  it,  her  back 
to  the  balustrade,  the  girl  stood  talking  to 
Malakoff.  She  was  looking  down  and  did 
not  see  him,  and  Malakoff,  who  was  facing 
her,  did  not  either. 

Tranquilly  and  courteously  he  approached. 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  119 

"Without  indiscretion,  if  I  am  not  interrupt 
ing—" 

Maud  looked  up,  and  Malakoff  looked 

around. 

"I  beg  of  you,"  said  the  latter. 

"Would  you  care  for  a  turn?"  asked  Wei- 
den,  who,  as  he  spoke,  nodded  and  smiled  at 
both  of  them. 

"Voila!"  Malakoff  exclaimed.  "You  re 
mind  me.  I  also  have  my  duties.  Mad 
emoiselle!"  Moving  aside,  he  bowed. 

"Sans  adieu,"  Maud  called  to  him  over 
her  shoulder,  and  accompanied  by  Welden 
passed  on  and  in. 

There  Welden  put  an  arm  about  her  and 
together  they  began  gliding  and  reversing 
with  that  ease,  which,  in  all  the  cosmopolitan 
world  of  fashion,  Americans  best  display. 
As  they  floated  over  the  floor,  others,  who 
were  also  waltzing,  stopped  to  observe  them, 
noticing  which  they  stopped  themselves. 

"Let  us  go  in  there,"  said  Welden,  indi- 


120          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

eating  the  door  at  which,  a  moment  before, 
Sally  had  stood. 

It  led  to  a  smaller  room,  delicately  fitted, 
where,  however,  they  were  not  alone.  Other 
people,  Parisians  with  whom  they  were  un 
acquainted,  were  seated  or  standing  about. 
But,  near  the  entrance,  was  an  unoccupied 
sofa,  on  which  Maud  sank  and  Welden 
dropped. 

The  girl  unfurled  a  fan.  "Dearest,  do 
you  know,  Malakoff  talks  really  rather 
well." 

Welden  nodded.  "He  isn't  such  a  bad 
sort.  I  won  a  pot  of  money  of  him  to 
night.  By  the  way,  I  am  in  for  a  race.  It 
is  to  be  on  the  sixth — " 

Further  confidences  were  interrupted.  In 
the  doorway  Cantire  appeared,  looking 
eagerly  about. 

"Oh,  Miss  Barhyte,"  he  cried,  as  he  spot 
ted  the  girl.  "Won't  you  give  me  this  dance, 
or  at  least,  what's  left  of  it?" 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  121 

Maud,  rising,  took  the  boy's  arm,  and 
Welden,  who  had  also  risen,  dropped  back. 

The  pot  of  money  which  he  had  won, 
while  inconsequential,  was  an  assistance. 
There  had  been  a  very  inconveniencing 
crash  in  Wall  street.  That  morning 
he  had  meditated  wiring  there  and 
having  the  proceeds  of  July  coupons 
and  dividends  cabled  to  his  Paris  ac 
count.  But  now,  meanwhile,  the  pot, 
however  relatively  small,  was  a  help. 
Mechanically  he  felt  of  the  pocket  in  which 
he  had  placed  it. 

As  he  did  so,  Maud  reappeared.  Other 
confidences  ensued,  which,  as  before,  were 
interrupted.  A  new  aspirant  for  a  turn  came 
to  the  girl.  After  the  second,  there  was  a 
third,  then  there  were  more.  For  in  the 
minds  of  men,  however  obtuse,  her  beauty 
put  a  restlessness,  a  trouble,  sometimes  a 
hope.  Those  who  were  free  coveted  the 
possibilities  it  evoked;  those  who  were  not 


122          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ruminated  the  savourousness  of  those  pos 
sibilities. 

"Dearest,"  she  said  at  last.  "Shall  we 
go?" 

"Yes,  a  1'Anglaise,"  Welden  answered, 
expressing  in  the  language  of  the  land  its 
neat  equivalent  for  the  English  "French 
leave." 

"Dearest,"  she  remonstrated,  "I  at  least 
must  say  a  word." 

In  search  of  Sally,  on  through  the  ball 
room  she  passed,  surrounded  by  homages, 
enveloped  by  the  glances  of  men. 

Presently,  after  the  word  had  been  said, 
and  her  cloak  had  been  put  about  her,  she 
went  down  through  a  double  hedge  of  lackeys 
to  the  perron  below,  where  her  lover  waited 
and  a  footman  bawled: 

"The  people  of  Madame  la  princesse  de 
Solferino!" 

Very  gorgeous,  very  smiling,  the  princess, 
formerly  Fanny  Murray  of  New  York,  in- 


A  LITTLE  FRISK  123 

terrupted  her  luminous  exit  to  remark  to 
them:  "Hasn't  it  been  jolly?" 

When  she,  her  glitter  and  her  platitudes 
had  gone,  the  footman  bawled  again,  this 
time  for  Welden's  carriage. 

About  the  entrance  was  a  group  of 
grooms,  idlers,  birds  of  the  night.  Down 
the  avenue  glowed  the  lamps  of  waiting  cars 
and  broughams.  Before  these  a  sergent-de- 
ville,  his  head  bent,  his  hands  behind  his 
back,  promenaded  Napoleonically.  Above, 
the  moon  hung,  a  round  of  butter  in  the  sky. 
In  the  air  was  a  sweetness,  and  from  the 
open  windows  sank  the  swooning  measures 
of  a  waltz. 

Welden,  after  putting  Maud  into  the 
carriage,  drew  from  a  pocket  of  his  white 
waistcoat  a  chainless  watch,  from  the  stem 
of  which  her  token,  the  sapphire,  dangled. 

"You  have  had  no  supper.  Suppose  we 
go  somewhere  and  take  a  private  room?" 

With  a  quick  intake  of  the  breath,  the 


124          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

girl  answered:  "Dearest,  yes,  and  let  us 
hurry." 

"The  Cafe  de  la  Paix,"  Welden  threw  at 
the  coachman's  back.  "Et  vivement!" 

Then,  in  a  moment,  when  he  was  beside 
her,  the  girl  withdrew  a  glove,  put  her  hand 
in  his  and  whispered : 

"Dearest,  I  am  so  happy  that  it  frightens 


me." 


"Yes,"  Welden  replied.  "I  know.  I, 
too,  am  afraid." 

"You!" 

"In  any  love  affair  there  are  always  three. 
The  third  is  the  unknown.  It  is  that  which 
frightens." 

What  he  meant  he  could  not  have  told. 
The  remark,  passably  oracular,  had  but 
sprung  into  the  sudden  utterance,  which,  oc 
casionally,  prophecies  take.  Dismissed  at 
the  time  in  immediate  embraces,  afterward 
it  was  shudderingly  recalled. 


V 

THE    VILLA    PORTUGAISE 

To  the  cosmopolite,  Deauville  is  delight 
ful.  The  days  fall  by  in  an  atmosphere  drip 
ping  with  ammonia  and  desire,  scented  with 
caprices  and  brine,  shuttled  too  by  that  gen 
eral  deviltry,  which  those  consorts  of  society, 
wealth  and  idleness,  inevitably  produce. 

The  house  there  which  the  Malakoffs  had 
taken  was  known  as  the  Villa  Portugaise. 
The  reason  of  that  was  inscrutable.  Instead 
of  the  patio,  loggia,  fountains  and  blooms 
which  the  name  implied,  there  was  a  trim 
lawn  fronting  a  thoroughly  English  dwell 
ing  that  looked  obliquely  at  the  sea. 

In  spite  of  the  Britannic  reserve  of  its  ap 
pearance,  there  was  in  it  an  ease,  an  entire 
liberty,  a  complete  sans-gene  that  harmo 
nised  very  perfectly  with  the  Deauvillian 
air. 

On  the  ground  floor  were  the  living  rooms, 


126          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

spacious,  cool,  perhaps  a  trifle  severe.  These 
gave  on  the  ocean.  On  the  lawn  side  was  a 
wide  hall  that  extended  from  one  end  of  the 
house  to  the  other.  In  the  centre  was  the  en 
trance.  At  the  right  of  the  doorway  was  a 
table  on  which  were  reviews,  papers,  periodi 
cals.  Above  it  was  a  rack  in  which  letters 
were  put.  To  the  left  of  the  entrance,  at  the 
extreme  end,  a  flight  of  steps  started,  con 
tinued  for  a  few  steps,  then  halting,  turned 
abruptly  and  directly  up  to  a  galleried  floor 
above  where  the  bedrooms  were,  which  for 
general  convenience  had  been  numbered. 

When,  on  the  evening  of  the  third  of  July, 
Maud  and  Welden  arrived,  they  were  met  in 
the  haU  by  Sally,  by  Malakoff,  the  Cerisys, 
the  Solferinos  and  a  dozen  others,  among 
whom  was  Cantire. 

The  boy,  attired  in  beautifully  cut  evening 
clothes,  looked  hot,  or  rather  red.  Mme.  de 
Cerisy,  taking  advantage  of  his  youth,  had 
put  to  him  questions  which  even  at  Deau- 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  127 

ville  were  perhaps  indiscreet.  Mrs.  Cawtree, 
who  had  come  over  from  her  own  very  neigh 
bourly  villa,  had  overheard  and  was  laugh 
ing. 

"Hasten,  my  children,"  Sally,  after  the 
first  greetings,  called  in  French.  "We  dine 
and  at  once." 

Maud  was  then  taken  to  No.  10,  a  room  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs.  Opposite  was  No.  12. 
It  was  there  Welden  was  shown.  The  ar 
rangement  was  so  convenient  that  he  con 
gratulated  himself  on  its  idyllic  simplicity. 

A  little  later  when  he  and  Maud  had 
dressed  and  both  were  about  to  descend  the 
stair,  they  could  hear  Sally  exclaiming. 

In  her  hand  was  a  blue  rag  of  a  telegram 
on  which  a  string  of  typewritten  words  had 
been  gummed. 

"What  is  it?"  Malakoff  asked. 

"Giselle  Oppensheim  who  wires  that  she 
comes  to-morrow.  But  where  shall  I  put 
her?  Where?" 


128          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Bah!"  answered  Malakoff.  "It  will  ar 
range  itself.  On  s'avisera." 

Mrs.  Cawtree,  who  knew  everything, 
everything  fashionably  knowahle  that  is, 
looked  admiringly  at  Sally.  It  was  not 
every  bride  and  particularly  it  was  not 
every  American  bride,  who  was  capable  of 
being  so  indulgently  sans-fa9on.  Mrs.  Caw- 
tree's  esteem  for  Sally  mounted.  But  at 
once  an  attenuation  followed.  Probably 
she  does  not  know,  the  lady  reflected. 

"Do  you  fancy  that  the  duchess  knows 
about  Mme.  Oppensheim?"  she  asked  of 
Cantire  when  presently  she  found  him  next 
to  her  at  dinner. 

"Knows  what?"  the  boy  inquired,  chok 
ing  down  as  he  spoke,  the  velvet  of  a 
bisque. 

"I  remind  myself,"  Mrs.  Cawtree  inconse 
quentially  resumed,  "of  the  woman  who 
asked  Dumas  whether  there  was  anything 
between  him  and  the  Princess  Belgioso. 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  129 

'Madam,'  he  replied,  "sometimes  nothing 
whatever.' ' 

It  was  a  moment  before  Cantire  got  it. 
When  he  did  he  laughed  in  a  fashion  so  dis 
orderly  that  to  steady  him,  Mrs.  Cawtree 
asked  him  to  a  frisk  at  her  house  the  next 
night. 

The  effort  succeeding,  she  turned  with  a 
similar  invitation  to  Aquaviva  who  was  op 
posite,  after  which  she  asked  Prince  Sara- 
guine  who  sat  between  her  and  Sally. 

Kara  Saraguine  had  an  air  of  having 
lived  extensively  and  of  fully  intending  to 
continue  such  living.  At  the  moment  he  was 
eating  mussels  from  the  sauce  of  a  sole  Nor- 
mande  and  while  listening  to  Sally's  chat 
ter,  had  an  eye  on  Maud,  who  sat  a  little  be 
yond,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"That  youthfulness  is  ravishing,"  he  re 
marked  and  wiped  his  mouth.  "A  compa 
triot,  Duchess?  One  could  devour  her." 

Cantire's  eyes  were  now  on  the  girl,  so 


130          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

were  Malakoff's  and  Solferino's,  and  Maud, 
knowing  of  old  the  ideality  of  men's 
thoughts,  blushed  suddenly  and  divinely. 

But  at  once,  for  countenance'  sake,  lean 
ing  forward,  she  called,  in  English,  to  Sally. 

"What  sort  of  a  place  is  Etretat?  While 
I  was  dressing  they  brought  me  a  telegram 
from  my  father.  He  is  to  motor  there  from 
Frascati's  to-morrow.  Is  it  nice?" 

"Charming!"  Saraguine  volunteered  in 
French.  "The  downs,  the  cliffs,  the  view, 
whatever  you  will,  is  charming,  except  the 
world  there.  No,  frankly,  Mademoiselle, 
that  is  everything  there  is  of  most  grocer." 

"Etretat!"  Solferino,  also  in  French,  ex 
claimed.  "I  promenaded  myself  once  that 
way.  Once,  that  is  permissible,  twice  would 
be  a  sin.  And  I,  I  am  not  exacting.  I — " 

Solferino  ran  on.  Presently  everybody 
seemed  to  be  talking  at  once.  Momentarily 
Maud's  too  alluring  looks  were  forgotten. 
But  when  the  dinner  was  over,  several  men 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  131 

gathered  in  the  hall  about  her  and  there  re 
mained  until  drawn  into  the  fumoir,  where 
Welden  was  the  last  to  follow  and  where, 
afterward,  with  the  hopelessness  of  a  regret 
that  is  to  be  eternal,  he  wished  he  had  never 
gone. 

There,  a  footman  was  trundling  a  chest 
on  wheels.  In  it  were  cigars  of  different 
shades  and  sizes,  cigarettes  of  various  brands. 
As  Welden  entered,  the  man  steered  it  up  to 
him.  He  took  a  londres  and  surveyed  the 
room. 

Near  by  was  a  buffet,  hospitably  inviting. 
On  it  were  decanters  of  chartreuse  and 
maraschino ;  flagons  of  brandy  and  gin ;  bot 
tles  of  Vichy  and  Eau  de  Vals.  These  latter 
had  obviously  been  attacked.  But  with  that 
abstemiousness  which  is  a  characteristic  of 
the  way  we  live  now,  the  liquors  and  liqueurs 
were  untouched. 

Contiguously  was  a  billiard  table  on  which 
Cantire,  a  cigar  between  his  teeth,  was  knock- 


132          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ing  balls  about.  Opposite  on  a  sofa,  raised 
by  a  dais,  Solferino  sprawled.  He  looked 
precisely  like  a  fat  old  woman. 

Idly  Welden  wondered  why  his  wife  had 
accepted  him.  She  was  a  Murray.  The 
Murrays  were  not  brilliant.  But  in  point 
of  birth  and,  for  that  matter,  of  breeding, 
her  family,  like  Maud's  and  like  his  own, 
were  superior,  in  every  way,  to  any  imperial 
spawn. 

He  passed  on.  Beyond  was  the  green 
baize  of  a  baccarat  table,  about  which  now 
other  men  were  grouped.  Saraguine  was 
dealing.  The  cards  which  he  gave  to  the 
right,  Aquaviva  received;  those  to  the  left 
went  to  Malakoff.  Behind  these  the  others 
stood  and  punted. 

Presently,  Malakoff,  to  whom  Saraguine 
had  furnished  an  almost  uninterrupted 
series  of  picture  cards,  got  up,  and  Welden, 
after  a  circular  look  of  inquiry,  took  the  va* 
cated  chair. 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  133 

The  ill  luck  that  had  visited  that  side 
of  the  table  continued.  Across  the  way 
Aquaviva  and  his  backers  were  winning. 
Meanwhile  Welden  and  those  behind  him 
lost.  Then,  as  is  usual  in  such  circum 
stances,  the  losers  abandoning  their  po 
sitions,  deserted  to  the  favoured  side 
and  shortly,  from  the  chair  which  Mala- 
koff  had  relinquished,  Welden  was  betting 
alone. 

He  had  begun  with  hundred  franc  wagers. 
As  these  vanished,  his  stake  increased. 
From  a  silk  card  case  he  drew  blue  and  white 
notes,  one  after  another,  until  all  which  it 
held  were  gone.  Barring  some  loose  gold  in 
his  waistcoat  he  had  nothing. 

"Je  suis  ratiboise,"  he  remarked.  "I  am 
cleaned  out." 

He  was  getting  up,  as  Malakoff  had  done, 
when  Saraguine,  seeing  his  predicament  and 
perhaps  conscious  that  if  he  desisted,  the 
game  might  cease,  said  to  him: 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"If  you  will,  I  beg  of  you,  stake  on  pa 
role." 

"Thanks,"  Welden  answered  and  resumed 
his  seat.  "A  hundred  louis." 

The  game  proceeded.  Cantire  had  left 
the  billiard  table.  Solferino  approached. 
Aquaviva,  relinquishing  his  chair  to  de 
Cerisy,  went  to  the  buffet,  drank  largely  of 
Vichy  and  walked  away. 

"Nine!"  said  Welden,  exposing  his  cards, 

"Eight!" said  Saraguine, exposing  his  own. 

"Nothing,"  said  de  Cerisy,  pushing  his 
cards  aside. 

Saraguine,  after  gathering  in  the  money 
from  that  quarter,  paid  Welden  and  redealt. 

For  a  while  thereafter,  fortune  changed. 
The  players  that  had  deserted  Welden  re 
turned.  He  recovered  what  he  had  lost  and 
ten  thousand  francs  in  addition.  Then  luck 
veered.  He  staked  the  ten  thousand,  lost 
them  and,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  had 
lost  fifty  thousand  more. 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  135 

Tranquilly,  but  this  time  definitely,  he 
got  from  his  seat,  drank  of  the  Vichy  and 
went  out  in  search  of  Maud. 

In  the  hall  women  were  grouped,  talking 
modes  and  morals,  the  cosmopolitan  gossip 
of  London,  Paris  and  Rome.  Maud,  a  little 
removed  from  the  others,  was  in  a  rocking 
chair,  a  slipper  just  visible  beneath  the  hem 
of  her  skirt,  her  bare  arms  upraised  behind 
her  head. 

Before  her,  Malakoff  balanced  himself  on 
the  arm  of  another  chair.  As  Welden  ap 
proached,  he  stood  up. 

"You  won,  I  hope,"  he  threw  out,  and 
sauntered  away. 

"As  it  happened  I  lost,"  Welden  ex 
claimed,  not  to  him,  but  to  the  girl.  "I  shall 
have  to  go  to  Paris  to-morrow." 

"Dearest,  I  have  money,  eight  or  nine 
hundred  francs  I  think,"  Maud  slowly,  in 
her  low,  caressing  voice,  replied. 

Welden  laughed.    "I  could  not  take  it  and 


136          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

even  if  I  could,  it  would  not  be  anywhere 
near  enough.  As  it  is  I  shall  have  to  cable." 

"Dearest,  to-morrow  is  the  Fourth,  it  is 
particularly  for  to-morrow  we  are  here  and 
in  the  evening  Mrs.  Cawtree  wants  us  to 
come  to  her.  Could  you  not  put  it  off?" 

"Not  very  comfortably.  The  money  has 
to  be  paid  at  once,  within  the  legal  delays 
that  is,  and  they  amount  to  twenty-four 
hours.  But  I  will  be  back  in  time  for  Mrs. 
Cawtree's.  At  the  latest  I  can  take  a  train 
which  gets  here  at  nine  and  to-night — " 

"Dearest,  be  careful,"  the  girl  interrupt 
ed.  Slowly  she  looked  around.  But  they 
were  quite  alone.  "Be  sure  first,  won't  you," 
she  added,  "that  no  one  is  about." 

Welden  ran  his  long  thin  fingers  through 
his  bright  thick  hair.  Not  for  this  world 
certainly  and  probably  not  either  for  the 
next,  would  he  by  so  much  as  a  gesture  have 
compromised  the  girl. 

Much  later,  after  he  had  waited  longly 


THE  VILLA  PORTUGAISE  137 

and  listened  vainly  and  made  two  abortive 
attempts,  when  at  last  the  villa  seemed 
entirely  hushed,  he  crossed  the  little  space 
that  lay  between  his  room  and  hers. 

The  door  was  unlocked.  As  he  opened  it 
the  disposition  of  the  room  was  such  that  he 
could  see  of  the  girl  only  the  rich  orange  of 
her  hair,  the  outline  of  her  pillowed  head. 

At  the  noise,  ever  so  slight,  which  he 
made  on  entering,  she  turned.  Immediately 
he  heard,  or  thought  he  heard,  a  footfall  in 
the  corridor  without.  Quickly  he  closed  the 
door  and  bolted  it.  It  was,  he  noticed,  mas 
sively  made,  of  solid  oak. 

In  the  momentary  uneasiness  which,  in 
circumstances  such  as  these,  even  a  problem 
atic  footfall  may  and  does  properly  excite, 
he  reflected  that  no  one  could  get  in  and 
then  immediately  he  told  himself  that  no 
one  would  try. 


VI 
THE  HEAD 

The  next  evening  Welden  left  Paris  for 
Deauville.  Ordinarily,  as  he  had  told  Maud, 
he  would  have  arrived  at  nine.  But  the  de 
railment  of  another  train  interfered.  It  was 
eleven  when  he  reached  the  villa. 

A  gale  was  blowing.  From  within, 
through  the  windows  and  the  open  door, 
lights  fell  on  the  driveway,  chequering  the 
pebbles  with  yellow  spots.  From  beyond, 
in  a  lull  of  the  wind,  came  the  sound  of  vio 
lins  and  voices.  The  villa  itself  was  silent. 

As  Welden  entered,  a  footman  came  run 
ning.  No  one  else  was  about.  Turning,  he 
passed  on  to  the  stairs  and  up  them. 

During  the  delay  that  had  supervened  he 
told  himself  that  because  of  it,  Maud,  ceas- 


THE  HEAD  139 

ing  to  expect  him,  would  have  gone  on  to 
Mrs.  Cawtree's,  and  it  was  with  the  idea  of 
dressing  and  of  joining  her  that  he  made 
for  his  room.  But,  while  on  the  stair,  it  oc 
curred  to  him  to  look  in  hers. 

On  reaching  it,  he  turned  the  knob.  The 
door  was  unlocked,  it  opened  at  his  touch, 
and,  precisely  as  on  the  night  before,  he  saw 
the  rich  orange  of  her  pillowed  head,  but  saw 
too,  beside  her,  Malakoff. 

For  a  second  only.  Enveloped  momen 
tarily,  yet,  for  the  moment,  enveloped  abso 
lutely  by  the  catastrophic  emotions  of  a 
whirlwind  of  nightmares,  before  he  could 
move,  the  door,  slammed  in  his  face,  was 
bolted. 

In  the  instant  concussion,  the  anchylosis 
of  the  anterior  shock  fell  by,  replaced  imme 
diately  by  blood  madness. 

Behind  that  door  a  man  and  a  woman 
were  occupied  in  continuing  to  be.  Of  that 
alone  he  was  conscious.  Over  all  the  cells  of 


140          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

his  brain  a  somnolence  had  fallen,  over  all, 
save  one,  and  that  one  cell,  vehemently  act 
ive,  was  inciting  him  to  tear  with  bare  hands 
life  from  the  man,  that  done,  to  tear  it  again 
from  the  woman. 

But  for  the  door  he  could  and  would  have. 

Violently  he  flung  himself  against  it.  Vio 
lently  yet  vainly,  and  before  perhaps  it  were 
possible  for  him  to  have  realised  the  futility 
of  the  effort,  he  did  realise  that  some  one 
was  near  him,  somebody  who  had  a  hand  on 
his  arm  and  who  was  offensively  interfering. 

Savagely  he  turned.  Before  him,  in  ball 
dress,  a  fichu  of  lace  about  her  head,  was 
Sally. 

"Don't,"  she  was  saying.    "Don't." 

Welden,  maniacal  still,  could  have  struck 
her.  She  saw  it.  But  she  did  not  flinch. 
Though  naturally  agitated,  she  did  not  seem 
frightened,  surprised  merely  and  also  un 
certain. 

Welden  raised  his  hand  with  a  movement 


THE  HEAD  141 

that  threatened  her,  threatened  the  occu 
pants  of  that  room,  menaced  the  house, 
Deauville  itself,  a  gesture  wide,  insane,  ele 
mental  and  human. 

"Don't,"  she  repeated. 

In  the  constant  reiteration  of  that  one 
word  there  must  have  been  something  of  the 
effect  of  a  spray.  The  irritability  of  the 
one  active  cell  subsided,  that  of  other  cells 
was  aroused. 

Welden's  arm  fell  at  his  side.  He  stared 
at  Sally.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  one  of  his 
two  selves  recognised  her. 

Sally,  discovering  not  that,  but  the  al 
tered  attitude,  faced  him. 

"He  would  not  be  there  unless  she 
wished." 

The  words  fell  over  him  plentifully  like 
water  thrown  from  a  bucket.  In  the  full 
douche  and  splatter  of  them,  their  meaning 
insinuated  itself  into  the  arteries  of  thought. 
The  man's  two  selves,  the  objective  and  the 


142          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

subconscious,  rejoined  each  other;  mania 
subsided,  somnambulism  ceased.  Abruptly 
his  entire  brain  awoke.  The  potential  trog 
lodyte  that  was  in  him,  as  potentially  he  is 
in  us  all,  dematerialised.  At  once  a  man  of 
the  world  in  flannels  and  a  straw  hat  found 
himself  in  the  presence  of  a  lady.  That  hat 
he  removed. 

In  the  eyes  and  about  the  mouth  of  the 
lady  was  an  expression  which  some  ladies 
have  when  they  are  occupied  less  with  what 
they  say  than  with  other  things  which  they 
do  not  propose  to  mention. 

It  was  quite  the  same  to  Welden.  That 
which  occupied  him  was  the  ineluctable  truth 
of  her  statement.  Malakoff  would  not  be 
there  if  Maud  had  not  consented. 

It  was  in  a  shrill  whisper  that  Sally  had 
produced  it.  Now,  in  the  same  tone,  look 
ing  him  still  in  the  face,  she  said: 

"Come  below  with  me." 

As  she  spoke  she  stooped,  gathered  the 


THE  HEAD  143 

train  of  her  dress  and  together  they  descend 
ed  the  stair. 

In  the  hall  a  footman  stood.  Sally  left 
Welden  and  went  to  the  table.  Above  it  in 
a  rack  was  a  letter  which  she  avidly  took 
and  put  in  her  corsage.  Then,  turning,  she 
spoke  to  the  servant. 

Welden,  meanwhile,  was  still  absorbed  by 
her  statement.  But  happiness  was  yet  so 
recent  that  the  ineluctable  truth  had  not 
fully  permeated  all  the  cerebral  convolu 
tions,  and  the  fact  that  it  had  not,  manifested 
itself  in  the  melodramatic  phrase  which  all 
have  uttered,  all  at  least  whom  the  unfore 
seen  has  felled. 

"It  is  impossible;  I  am  dreaming!" 

At  that,  instantly,  there  surged  before 
him  the  vision  of  the  pillowed  head,  but  now, 
through  some  miracle  of  hell,  he  could  see 
the  body,  the  fair  ivory  of  it  blotched  with 
postules. 

Again  hgematomania  would  have  claimed 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

him.  For  a  moment  it  was  not  only  the  vi 
sion  that  he  saw  but  zigzags  of  black  and 
scarlet.  Determinedly  he  reacted.  Almost 
immediately  the  natural  poise  of  the  man  re 
turned,  with  it  as  quickly  came  the  realisa 
tion  that  since  already  he  had  done  nothing, 
there  was  nothing  that  he  or  any  other  civil 
ised  being  could  do,  except  indeed  to  leave 
the  house. 

At  the  sure  cognition  of  that  he  looked 
about  for  Sally.  She  was  speaking  to  a 
maid. 

"I  am  going,"  he  told  her. 

Sally,  from  over  her  shoulder,  nodded  at 
him. 

"So  am  I,"  she  answered  and  went  on  with 
her  orders. 

"Perkins,"  she  was  saying,  "M.  de  Mala- 
koff  is  in  number  ten.  Tell  Harris  to  have 
two  of  the  men  remain  near  by  until  they 
see  him  leave  it." 

Welden  wondered  absently  at  her  reply. 


THE  HEAD  145 

It  was  odd,  he  thought,  that  she  also  should 
be  going.  Then,  as  absently,  he  remembered 
that  she  was  Malakoff's  wife  and  he  contem 
plated  the  fact  gravely,  without  pity,  It 
seemed  to  him  just  that  besides  himself  some 
one  else  should  suffer. 

"And  Perkins,"  Sally  called  at  the  now 
retreating  woman.  "Bring  my  jewel  case 
and  some  things,  enough  for  to-night." 

"Come,"  she  added  to  Welden,  moving 
as  she  spoke  to  the  door.  "I  am  going  to 
Mrs.  Cawtree's.  You  had  better  go  to  the 
hotel,  to  the  Roches  Crises." 

The  weather,  like  themselves,  had  become 
dramatic.  The  high  wind  that  swept  the 
frivolity  of  the  land,  came  from  the  sea,  per 
haps  from  the  Pole.  It  was  strong  and  rude 
and,  as  they  issued  from  the  house,  it 
pounced  on  them,  howling  and  gay  as  a  pack 
of  foxhounds. 

Sally's  clothes  were  lifted  and  tossed,  the 
fichu  was  nearly  torn  from  her  head.  She 


146          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

dominated  her  dress  however,  maintained 
the  bit  of  lace,  and,  as  they  went  down  the 
path,  she  called  at  Welden:  "What  shall 
you  do  to-morrow?" 

The  "to-morrow"  was  all  he  caught.  The 
rest  of  the  question  the  gale  scattered  before 
it  reached  him.  But  it  was  enough.  It 
prompted.  As  yet  he  had  not  thought. 
Then  at  once  he  knew,  and  he  determined  to 
wire  to  Le  Hillel  and  dispatch  him,  with 
some  local  acquaintance,  to  Malakoff. 

Sally,  fancying  that  he  had  not  heard  at 
all,  cried  at  him  again,  repeating  the  ques 
tion. 

Welden,  holding  his  hat  on  with  one  hand 
and  pointing  back  at  the  house  with  the 
other,  shouted:  "I  shall  have  friends  of 
mine  call  there." 

That  was  very  satisfactory.  Sally,  her 
head  bent,  considered  it  gleefully.  It  was 
what  she  had  hoped,  an  additional  arrow 
for  her  quiver,  in  which  already  was  divorce. 


THE  HEAD  14T 

Presently  she  spoke  again,  but  what  she  said 
Welden  did  not  hear,  did  not  care. 

The  sea,  pounding  on  the  shore,  was 
creating  a  thunder  deafening  and  con 
fused.  It  was  as  though  a  gigantic 
machine  were  hastening  terribly  to  some 
enormous  task. 

Sally,  in  despair  of  making  Welden  hear 
otherwise,  caught  at  his  arm  and  motioned 
him  to  lower  his  head. 

When  he  had  she  shrieked  in  his  ear:  "I 
want  you  to  do  me  a  great  favour,  a  very 
great  favour,  will  you?" 

"Will  I  what?" 

He  had  heard  but  half  of  what  she  said, 
not  because  of  the  roar  but  because  of  his 
thoughts  which  she,  with  her  questions,  en 
tangled. 

Now,  however,  again  she  was  shrieking: 
"I  want  you  to  kill  him." 

But  though  she  shrieked,  she  smiled  and, 
in  spite  of  the  tossing  gale,  in  spite  too  of  her 


148  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ballooning  dress,  she  looked  sweet  and  sim 
ple. 

Welden  nodded.  For  the  first  time  since 
they  had  known  each  other,  what  she  wanted 
he  wanted  also. 

Sally  nodded  too.  Clutching  at  her  dress 
she  shouted:  "Don't  let  anyone  know  why; 
promise  that  you  will  not." 

They  had  reached  the  gate  of  a  little  park 
in  which  the  Cawtree  villa  stood.  In  the 
shelter  of  the  wall  there  was  a  respite  from 
the  gale.  The  sea  too  sounded  less  thun 
derous. 

"Promise  you  won't,"  she  repeated  more 
normally. 

Welden  cried  at  her:  "That  reminds  me, 
will  you  do  something  for  me?" 

"Anything,"  Sally  cried  back.  "I  will  do 
anything  in  the  world  for  you." 

The  fervour  of  the  protestation  Welden 
let  pass  unnoticed. 

"Is  Prince  Saraguine  in  there?" 


THE  HEAD  149 

"He  is  leading  the  cotillon." 

Welden  got  at  his  card  case  and  from  it 
took  a  cheque  already  made  out. 

"Give  him  this  with  my  thanks."  He 
turned.  "Good  night,"  he  added. 

"Good  night,"  she  replied  and,  as  he 
moved  into  the  gale,  she  made  a  trumpet  of 
her  hands  and  screamed  through  them: 
"Good  luck." 

Welden,  holding  his  hat  to  his  head, 
passed  on  to  the  village.  The  wind  that  blew 
through  his  flannels,  bent  the  trees,  swept  the 
narrow  streets,  dispersed  their  germs,  re 
freshing  whatever  it  touched,  leaving  the 
quivering  air  pure  and  delicious. 

The  hall  of  the  Roches  Grises,  saturated 
with  tobacco  and  electricity,  full  of  people, 
of  hurrying  waiters,  of  parties  returning 
from  the  Casino  at  Trouville  and  of  tour 
ists  eyeing  one  another  hostilely  or  with  in 
difference,  resounded  with  calls  of  the 
telephone,  with  slamming  doors  and  the 


150          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

noise  of  lifts  that  ceaselessly  rose  and  de 
scended. 

At  the  bureau,  Welden  secured  a  room, 
sent  a  chasseur  for  his  things  to  the  villa  and, 
these  recovered,  at  last  was  alone. 

The  room,  though  quiet,  was  as  peo 
pled  as  the  hall.  There  were  visions 
in  it,  very  many,  that  gradually,  with 
out  effort,  fused  into  a  picture  of  a  girl's 
pillowed  head. 

The  girl  herself  was  a  stranger.  It  was 
not  she  he  had  loved,  it  was  another,  totally 
different,  one  whom  his  imagination  had  cre 
ated,  a  girl  who  had  never  lived  and  who 
now  was  dead.  The  past  alone  was  real.  It 
surged  phantasmagorically,  like  a  great  de 
ceit,  a  lie  enormous  and  cruel,  inexplicable 
from  sheer  monstrosity.  The  crime  he 
had  witnessed  permeated  that  past,  smear 
ing  it  with  the  odiousness  of  a  coarse 
vulgarity. 

In  the  chair  in  which  he  sat,  he  moved. 


THE  HEAD  151 

From  the  wall  at  which  he  stared,  he  turned. 
Wherever  he  looked  the  picture  appeared. 
To  escape  it  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  He 
saw  it  there  the  clearer.  At  that,  an  agony 
made  of  a  thousand  wounds,  each  distinct, 
each  more  lancinant  than  the  other,  caught 
and  enveloped  him.  The  torture  of  it  thrust 
into  being  memories  long  ablated.  Frag 
ments  of  recollections  multiplied  in  his  mind. 
There  came  to  him  the  day  he  had  first  seen 
her,  the  hour  he  had  first  loved  her,  the  mo 
ment  he  had  first  thought  she  might  care 
for  him,  and,  traversing  these  memories  were 
tempests  of  others;  shaded  interiors,  chairs 
under  the  trees,  the  ball-rooms  of  Newport, 
Long  Island  lawns;  sudden  tableaux  of 
wherever  a  new  delight  had  been  experi 
enced,  of  wherever  a  fresh  sensation  had 
been  born,  of  wherever  she  had  exhaled  her 
invincible  charm. 

Within    him    the    sea    of    these    things 
mounted,  adding  their  bitterness  to  the  sear 


152          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

of  his  wounds.  There  was  no  myrrh  for 
them.  There  is  none  for  a  death  rattle, 
and  as  the  obsessing  vision  returned,  it 
brought  with  it  a  lassitude  so  large,  so 
empty  and  desolate,  that  it  resembled  ex 
tinction  itself. 


VII 
THE  DOOR 

On  the  morrow  the  gale  had  gone,  flown 
afar,  to  die  perhaps  on  some  shore  of  the 
Mediterranean.  In  Welden  too  a  tempest 
had  subsided.  In  the  eager  sunshine  that 
filled  the  room  he  stood,  contemplating  a 
note,  a  hurried  scrawl  from  Sally  informing 
him  she  had  learned  from  Perkins  that  Mala- 
koff  was  leaving  for  Paris. 

The  letter  fell  from  him.  A  telegram  dif 
ferent  from  the  one  he  had  meditated  must, 
he  saw,  be  sent,  and  he  wrote  one  asking  Le 
Hillel  to  meet  him  at  the  Escrime.  But 
there  were  other  things  to  be  done  and  done 
quickly.  He  gave  orders;  tubbed,  dressed, 
drank  some  coffee,  for  even  in  the  great 
crises  of  life  one  must  do  these  things,  and 
in  the  same  spirit  perhaps  that,  at  the  rev- 


154          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

eille  for  battle,  men  shave  and  see  to  it  that 
their  gloves  are  spotless,  Welden  adjusted 
his  neckcloth  and  considered  the  sheen  of 
his  shoes. 

But  Malakoff's  move  perplexed.  He 
could  not  understand  why  the  man  should 
be  leaving.  Toward  the  man  himself  he 
was  now  indifferent.  It  was  not  the  man 
he  hated,  it  was  the  male.  The  man  had 
outraged  every  canon  of  decency.  He  had 
broken  hospitality's  first  and  highest  law. 
Yet,  he  could  have  done  none  of  these  things 
if  Maud  had  not  consented  and,  the  consent 
granted,  any  other  male  would  have  done 
the  same.  Toward  the  consenter  he  felt  no 
hatred  either,  a  distaste  merely,  very  im 
medicable,  one  that  poisoned  her  and  him 
and  life. 

A  rap  had  come.  It  was  time  to  be  going 
and  shortly,  the  bill  paid,  the  service  fee'd, 
he  was  off  to  the  station. 

There,  already,  an  employee  was  calling 


THE  DOOR  155 

loudly  for  the  voyageurs,  and  Welden,  after 
purchasing  his  fare  and  getting  his  luggage 
ticketed,  went  from  the  bare  white  room  to 
the  platform  and  mounted  into  the  grey  up 
holstery  of  an  empty  compartment  of  the 
train. 

He  was  but  seated  when  he  saw  Malakoff 
swinging  in.  Rising  abruptly,  brusquely  he 
forced  himself  by  and  out. 

Malakoff  turned  angrily. 

"Monsieur,"  he  called,  "you  have  a  man 
ner  of  disregarding  the  bagatelles  of  the 
door  which  I  do  not  applaud.  If  you  care 
to  apologise — : 

"I  never  apologise,"  Welden  threw  at 
him. 

Malakoff,  pulling  a  glove  from  one  hand, 
raised  it  with  the  other. 

Instantly  that  hand  was  pinioned.  In 
another  instant  it  was  flung  aside  and  Wel 
den,  whose  jaw  had  become  ominously 
square,  confronted  him. 


156          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"That  is  sufficient.  Where  can  my 
friends  find  yours?" 

"At  my  house  if  it  suits  them." 

"En  voiture,  messieurs,  en  voiture!"  a 
guard  yelped,  for  now  there  were  more  lag 
gards;  Aquaviva,  Saraguine  and  a  man 
whom  Welden  did  not  know. 

These,  ignorant  as  yet  of  the  little  scene, 
had  just  issued  from  the  station. 

"Monsieur  Welden,"  said  the  Russian, 
"my  thanks  for  the  envoi  of  last  night." 

"Monsieur  Welden,"  said  the  Italian,  "do 
not  forget  Chantilly  to-morrow." 

To  an  accompaniment  of  the  employees' 
yelps  both  were  speaking  at  once. 

"You  go  with  us,  do  you  not?"  asked  the 
prince,  climbing  as  he  spoke  into  the  section 
into  which  already  Malakoff  had  mounted 
and  where  Aquaviva  followed. 

"This  way,  this  way,"  a  guard  barked. 

Welden  had  but  time  to-  clamber  into  an 
adjoining  compartment.  At  once  the  bolt 


THE  DOOR  157 

was  shot,  a  whistle  tooted,  the  train  was 
off. 

In  a  corner  sat  a  woman,  very  well 
dressed,  tall,  fair,  presumably  English,  who 
looked  invitingly  at  him.  Except  to  remore 
his  hat,  Welden  ignored  her  completely. 

The  clarity  of  the  morning  sky,  the  pop 
lars  that  bowed  and  fainted,  the  lovely  Nor 
man  land,  these  things  he  ignored  as  well. 
Over  the  white  leagues  his  thoughts  had  run 
on  ahead.  He  was  standing  somewhere,  ia 
tennis  shoes,  his  neck  bare,  his  sleeves  rolled 
up,  a  yard  of  steel  in  his  hand,  and  Malakoff 
was  before  him.  Mechanically  his  wrist 
moved.  The  point  of  the  steel  advanced 
and  retreated  in  a  line  absolutely  straight, 
effecting  in  the  parries  only  the  minimum 
circle.  There  were  men  that  stood  about 
and  watched  and  suddenly  they  saw  Malak- 
off  fall,  spitted,  that  yard  of  steel  gone 
through  him. 

What  was  the  fair  English  woman,  the 


158          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

clarity  of  the  sky,  the  bowing  poplars,  the 
lovely  Norman  land  beside  these  pleasantly 
murderous  sensations?  They  entertained 
him  fully  until  the  rush  of  the  train  de 
creased  into  a  soapy  slide  and  the  porters  of 
Saint-Lazare  were  calling  at  him. 

Leaving  his  things  in  the  rue  de  la  Paix, 
Welden  drove  on  to  the  Escrime,  the  fen 
cers'  club  of  which  he  was  a  member. 

There,  in  the  main  hall,  on  a  black  divan, 
a  cigar  between  his  teeth,  Le  Hillel  was 
seated. 

Adjacently  other-  members  were  seated 
and  two  men,  their  hands  behind  their  backs, 
paced  slowly  up  and  down.  From  a  lateral 
entrance,  a  colossal  lackey  in  the  club  liv 
ery,  with  knee  breeches  and  silk  stockings, 
called  loudly  the  sempiternal  announcement 
of  French  clubs,  the  amount  of  money  in  the 
baccarat  bank. 

Le  Hillel,  withdrawing  his  cigar,  waved  it. 

"I  got  your  wire.    Nothing  serious,  eh?" 


THE  DOOR  159 

"Do  you  know  Malakoff  ?"  Welden  asked, 
seating  himself  on  the  divan. 

"Enough-  to  say  Good-day.  Anything 
wrong  between  you?" 

Welden  nodded.  "We  had  some  words 
this  morning." 

Le  Hillel  stretched  himself  luxuriously. 
"About  a  woman?" 

"No.    On  the  contrary." 

Le  Hillel  assumed  an  attitude  of  still 
greater  luxuriousness.  "You  mean  that  the 
lady  is  not  to  be  mentioned.  That's  of 
course.  Whom  have  you  got  ?" 

"You  for  one,  I  suppose?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  with  the  greatest  pleas 


ure." 


"And  I  will  ask  Cantire." 

"Cantire,  no.  He  is  under-secretary.  A 
little  matter  of  this  kind  always  makes  talk 
and  that  is  displeasing  in  an  embassy.  Do 
you  know  Louradour?" 

Welden  shook  his  head. 


160          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Le  Hillel  stood  up,  balanced  himself  on 
his  heels,  then,  with  that  tread  which  athletes 
share  with  panthers,  he  joined  the  two  men 
who  were  pacing  up  and  down  and  spoke  to 
one  of  them. 

With  a  motion  of  apology  to  the  other, 
the  former  turned  with  Le  Hillel  to  where 
Welden  was  seated. 

As  they  approached,  Welden  arose. 

"Baron  Louradour,"  said  Le  Hillel, 
"this  is  my  friend  and  brother-in-arms  M. 
Welden  of  New  York.  M.  Welden  has  had 
an  argument  over — By  the  way,"  he  in 
terrupted  himself  to  ask.  "What  did  you 
say  it  was  about?" 

Welden,  raising  his  hat  in  response  to  the 
baron's  salutation,  answered.  "A  door." 

"A  door!"  Le  Hillel  repeated.  "That  is  a 
very  dangerous  topic." 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  baron,  employing 
as  he  spoke  an  inflection  which  musically 
rose  and  fell,  "we  have  here  in  France  an 


THE  DOOR  161 

adage  with  which  doubtless  you  are  familiar. 
It  is  that  a  door  should  be  open  or  closed. 
Perhaps  this  one  was  neither — " 

With  that,  in  a  gesture  of  complete  ap 
preciation,  the  baron  extended  both  hands. 
Though  presumably  fifty,  he  had  the  pink 
skin  of  a  child,  a  smile  of  infinite  indulgence, 
and  a  large,  loose  tie. 

"But  permit  me,"  he  resumed.  "Witk 
whom  did  this  argument  occur?" 

"With  Malakoff." 

"And  permit  me,  is  he  to  send  his  sec 
onds?" 

"No,  I  am  to  send  mine." 

"That  is  to  say,"  interrupted  Le  Hillel, 
"You  and  me,  Baron,  if  you  will  do  my 
friend  that  honour." 

"But  how,  then!  It  is  your  friend 
who  honours  me.  Permit  me  once  more. 
Your  adversary  has  the  choice  of  arms; 
and  you,  monsieur,  have  you  any  pref 
erence?" 


162          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Thanks,"  Welden  answered,  "anything 
but  swords." 

Louradour  smiled,  displaying  as  he  did 
so  teeth  small,  even,  white  as  white  paper. 
It  was  obvious  to  him  that  that  door  had 
opened  or  closed  on  something  extremely 
definite. 

"I  see,"  he  replied.  "No  child's  play." 
Turning  to  Le  Hillel  he  added:  "M. 
de  Malakoff  resides  I  suppose  in  his  ave 
nue?  Good.  It  would  be  discourteous  to 
keep  his  friends  waiting."  Turning  back  to 
Welden  he  continued:  "You  will  remain 
here?  Good.  In  an  hour  at  the  latest. 
Meanwhile  allow  me  to  express  all  my  pleas 
ure  at  meeting  an  American  who  views  mat 
ters  as  we  do." 

Laughing  and  nodding,  the  two  men 
passed  on. 

Presently  Welden  got  the  club  chasseur 
and  sent  nim  with  a  five  franc  piece  to  buy 
a  little  cardboard  box  which  cost  two  sous. 


THE  DOOR  163 

"Keep  the  change,"  he  said  when  the  serv 
ant  reappeared. 

Welden  was  lunching  then.  The  meal 
concluded,  he  took  out  his  watch  from 
which  hung  the  sapphire  with  its  old  French 
device:  Aultre  n'auray — None  but  you. 

The  moderate  irony  of  it  mocked  him. 
He  detached  it,  put  it  in  the  box  and  going 
to  the  reading-room,  wrapped,  sealed  and 
directed  it  to  Miss  Barhyte,  in  the  care  of 
her  bankers,  rue  Scribe.  Then,  again  req 
uisitioning  the  chasseur,  he  sent  him  with 
another  white  piece  to  deliver  it. 

"Finis!"  he  muttered  with  set  teeth  and 
for  a  while  contemplated  the  epitaph. 

"Pardon.  There  are  gentlemen  who  de 
mand  monsieur." 

Welden  looked  up.  He  had  been  far 
away,  on  the  longest  journey  that  a  mortal 
can  take,  into  the  depths  of  the  irreparable. 
It  was  the  colossal  lackey  that  had  ad 
dressed  him.  Rising,  he  followed  the  man 


164          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

into  the  hall  where  Le  Hillel  and  Louradour 
waited. 

"To-morrow  at  eight,"  the  former  an 
nounced.  "Baron  Louradour  has  obligingly 
arranged  to  have  the  meeting  take  place  at 
the  residence  of  M.  de  Ponthieu,  his  father- 
in-law." 

"You  are  really  too  good,"  said  Welden, 

The  baron  bowed.  "It  is  nothing,  noth 
ing  at  all.  M.  de  Ponthieu  is  with  my  fam 
ily  at  the  waters.  And  let  us  see.  Yes.  It 
is  foils." 

He  smiled,  patted  his  tie  and  added: 
"You  will  excuse  me,  my  dear  sir,  will  you 
not?  Till  to-morrow." 

"Deuced  nice  of  him  too,"  said  Le  Hillel 
when  he  had  gone.  "We  might  have  had  to 
go  to  Neuilly.  His  father-in-law's  place  is 
five  minutes  from  your  hotel.  I  will  stop 
by  for  you  in  the  morning.  And  now,  what 
is  the  programme?" 

Welden  lit  a  cigarette.     "Later,  if  you 


THE  DOOR  165 

like,  I  will  have  a  bout  with  you.  Then  we 
might  dine  somewhere  and  I  will  go  to  bed 
early." 

Approvingly  Le  Hillel  nodded.  Welden 
was  a  man  after  his  own  heart,  a  man  sure 
of  himself,  one  who  had  no  intention  of 
writing  letters,  of  making  a  will  or  even  a 
night  of  it,  a  virtuoso  who  knew  that  the 
wrist  of  a  swordsman  is  as  sensitive  as  that 
of  a  violinist. 


VIII 
THE  DUEL 

The  morning  broke  darkly.  When  Wei- 
den  reached  the  street  the  sky  was  heaped 
with  clouds  sulphurous  and  evil.  To  the 
thin  thunder  of  metal  shutters  a  lout,  across 
the  way,  was  opening  a  shop.  Beyond,  two 
Percherons,  harnessed  to  a  high  white  cart, 
snorted  their  ennui.  At  the  curb,  in  a  motor, 
was  Le  Hillel.  With  him  was  a  little  man 
in  a  tall  hat,  who  held  a  bag  on  his  knees. 

"Hello!"  Le  Hillel  threw  out.  "Hop  in. 
Be  careful."  As  he  spoke  he  indicated  a 
long  green  bundle  that  lay  at  his  feet. 
"Avenue  Gabriel,"  he  called  at  the  chauf 
feur. 

"Do  you  remember  Sarcey?" — he  present 
ly  resumed  as  the  motor  flew  up  the  street. 
"On  a  morning  a  bit  worse  than  this  he  had 


THE  DUEL  167 

an  affair  which  he  insisted  on  conducting 
under  an  umbrella.  'I  may  be  winged,'  the 
old  idiot  declared,  'but  I  refuse  to  catch 
cold.'  How  did  you  sleep?  This  is  Dr. 
jMeyer." 

The  machine  now  had  turned  into  the  rue 
de  Rivoli.  Scudding  on,  it  crossed  the  foun- 
tained  Place  and  shortly  stopped  in  the 
briefest  and  most  seigneurial  of  Parisian 
avenues. 

Before  them,  a  great  double  doorway 
opened  slowly,  with  respect.  Above  it  was 
a  stone  arch  in  which  a  blazon  had  been  cut. 
On  either  side  was  a  vast,  white  wall.  With 
in  was  a  vista  of  trees,  large  urns,  marble 
benches.  Beyond  was  a  tennis  court,  farther 
away  a  house.  In  the  damp,  fresh  air,  a 
scent  of  roses  and  acacias  clung.  Over  all 
was  a  brooding  quiet,  the  splendid  disdain 
of  nature  for  the  imbecile  activity  of  man. 

Simultaneously  with  the  motor,  a  crimson 
touring  car  flew  up.  From  it  descended 


168  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Malakoff,  Aquaviva,  Saraguine  and  a  man 
also  in  a  high  hat,  also  with  a  bag  who,  as 
the  others  saluted,  exchanged  with  Dr.  Mey 
er  a  professional  smile. 

Without  speaking  all  passed  in  and  slow 
ly,  respectfully,  the  great  doors  closed.  On 
each  side  a  servant  in  brown  was  stationed. 
A  step  beyond  stood  Louradour. 

He  raised  his  hat.  "Gentlemen,  I  salute 
you."  As  the  others  raised  their  hats,  he 
added:  "It  may  rain.  If  preferred,  we 
can  get  under  cover." 

Saraguine,  withdrawing  a  glove,  stretched 
his  hand  horizontally  and  looked  at  the  sky. 

"A  little  mist,"  he  announced.  "It  is 
nothing." 

"Good,"  Louradour  rejoined.  "There  is 
then  nothing  to  detain  us  and  no  better  place 
than  the  court  over  there.  You  have  the 
foils,  Le  Hillel?" 

For  answer  the  green  bundle  was  dis 
played. 


THE  DUEL  169 

At  once,  with  the  French  observance  of 
what  is  correct  or,  more  exactly,  of  what  is 
so  considered,  gravely,  dumbly,  in  two  de 
tachments,  the  eight  men  proceeded  to  the 
tennis  court  where  four  of  them,  gathering 
together,  consulted. 

Welden  took  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat 
and  tossed  them  on  a  bench.  He  undid  his 
collar,  opened  his  shirt,  rolled  up  a  sleeve 
and  was  rolling  the  other  when  he  paused, 
arrested  by  a  remark  overheard. 

"I  say,  Le  Hillel,"  he  called.  "What  is 
all  that  about  Aquaviva's  holding  a  stick 
within  reach  of  our  foils?  To  prevent  an  ac 
cident,  is  it?  Well  then,  be  good  enough  to 
say  that  I  will  submit  to  nothing  of  the  kind. 
I  am  not  here  to  learn  how  to  fence.  It  was 
for  a  thing  of  this  sort  that  I  did  learn." 

Welden  spoke  in  English  which  Aquaviva 
did  not  understand  and  which  Saraguine 
who  was  talking  to  Louradour  did  not  hear. 

Malakoff  heard. 


170          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

The  remark,  perfectly  audible  to  him, 
equally  intelligible,  carried  a  significance  of 
its  own.  He  knew  that  Welden  could  ride, 
he  took  it  for  granted  that  he  could  shoot, 
that  he  could  handle  a  sword  was,  he  had 
thought,  within  the  range  of  possibilities, 
but  that  he  could  fence  had  never  occurred 
to  him.  It  was  for  that  reason  he  had  chosen 
foils.  A  poke  in  the  ribs  and  easily,  in  no 
time,  he  had  fancied  he  would  be  done  with 
him.  These  ideas  aiding  and  fortified  more 
over  by  two  good  seconds,  he  had  come  to 
this  meeting,  as  he  had  gone  to  others,  with 
out  the  shadow  of  a  preoccupation,  with  the 
view  merely  to  the  transaction  of  an  entirely 
formal  and  tiresome  affair. 

Now,  however,  at  the  remark  and  at  the 
sight  of  the  man  bare-necked,  bare-armed, 
supple  and  vigorous,  looking  very  much 
alive  and  equally  deadly,  the  ideas  he  had 
had  evaporated,  his  rank  fell  from  him  like 
a  cloak,  his  titles  like  bits  of  armour,  and  in 


THE  DUEL  171 

that  nakedness,  he  shivered.  Before  him 
surged  the  abrupt  apparition  of  death. 

For  one  moment,  that  apparition,  the  in 
struments,  bands,  compresses,  antiseptics — 
enough  for  an  ambulance — which  Dr.  Mey 
er  and  his  colleague  were  taking  from  their 
bags,  grotesquely  but  poignantly  main 
tained. 

Then  at  once,  the  cultivated  sentiment  of 
form  came,  asserted  itself,  rescued  him. 
With  that  air  which  he  could  assume,  that 
appearance  of  being  surrounded  by  lackeys 
ready,  at  a  gesture,  to  shut  the  door  in  any 
one's  face,  he  took  off  his  coat,  undid  his 
collar,  rolled  up  his  sleeves.  That  done,  he 
looked  again  at  Welden  who  was  looking  at 
him. 

"I  will  see  what  he  knows,"  Welden  was 
thinking.  "Then,  in  two  minutes,  Bon  jour !" 

Concerning  himself  he  had  that  entire  ab 
sence  of  apprehension  which  comes  to  some 
men  from  confidence,  to  others  from  indif- 


172          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ference.  Both  left  him  as  much  at  ease  as 
though  he  were  about  to  play  polo. 

Aquaviva,  meanwhile,  who  had  unwilling 
ly  yielded  to  the  objection  which  Le  Hill  el 
transmitted,  but  who  had  tossed  with  him 
for  the  choice  of  arms  and  place,  approached 
now  with  the  foils  which  he  offered,  first  to 
Malakoff,  whom  he  stationed  fronting  the 
arch  of  the  entrance,  and  then  to  Welden 
who,  in  facing  Malakoff,  faced  also  the 
house.  Yet,  as  there  was  no  sun,  the  ad 
vantage  to  either  was  negligible. 

"Are  you  ready?"  Saraguine  asked. 

Welden  felt  the  point  of  his  steel.  It  was 
sharp  as  a  needle.  He  advanced  toward 
Malakoff  and  both  fell  into  position. 

"On  guard!"  the  prince  called.    "Go!" 

The  foils,  united  for  an  instant  at  the  ends 
by  Le  Hillel,  now  were  seeking  each  other, 
crossing,  clashing,  functioning  with  'light 
movements  of  the  wrist. 

Welden,  taller  than  Malakoff,  perfectly 


THE  DUEL  178 

trained,  perfectly  tranquil,  maintained  the 
athlete's  easy  poise  and,  while  his  wrist 
moved,  looked  pitilessly  at  his  adversary. 
As  yet  however  he  attempted  nothing  de 
cisive.  His  parries,  effected  always  in  the 
smallest  possible  circle,  were  as  clean,  rapid 
and  precise  as  though,  with  a  buttoned  foil 
before  him,  he  were  on  the  boards,  in  an  ordi 
nary  bout.  But  in  parrying  merely,  he 
forced  Malakoff  to  show  his  hand,  to  tell 
what  he  knew,  to  expose  the  varieties  of  his 
play. 

These  were  of  the  school,  classic  but  not 
brilliant,  and  Malakoff,  at  the  sight  of  those 
circles,  at  the  sight  of  that  steel  which,  when 
not  describing  them,  advanced  and  returned 
in  a  line  almost  geometrically  straight,  saw 
that  he  had  to  deal  not  only  with  a  swords 
man  but  with  a  swordsman  of  the  very  first 
class.  On  the  part  of  an  American  he  had 
counted  on  nothing  of  the  kind.  At  the 
evidence  of  it  his  sense  of  nudity  increased. 


174          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

He  felt  not  only  wholly  naked  but  horribly 
insecure.  The  episode  which  he  had  regard 
ed  as  an  entirely  formal  and  tiresome  affair 
had  rapidly  assumed  the  proportions  of  an 
assassination. 

"Halt!"  cried  Saraguine. 

Malakoff  was  livid.  Visibly  he  perspired, 
audibly  he  panted  and  on  his  forearm  was 
a  thin  red  line. 

"You  are  touched,"  the  prince  added. 

The  wound  was  examined.  It  was  but  a 
scratch  and  so  slight  that  it  did  not  require 
even  to  be  staunched. 

Welden,  in  an  undertone,  said  with  a 
smile  to  Le  Hillel:  "I  know  him  now.  In  a 
moment  I  will  pin  a  carnation  in  his 
shirt/' 

Thoughtlessly  while  speaking,  he  had 
rested  the  point  of  the  foil  on  the  ground. 
Dr.  Meyer  approached  and  tenderly  with 
a  little  sponge  disinfected  it. 

"On  guard!"    Saraguine  called  and,  as 


THE  DUEL  175 

the  two  men  fell  into  position  again,  again 
he  called:  "Go." 

The  foils  met  as  before.  Malakoff,  to 
hide  the  nakedness  of  his  debility,  masked 
himself  behind  the  hilt,  and  parried  only 
until  after  a  counter-disengage  from  quatre 
to  tierce,  not  finding  Welden's  blade,  he 
lunged.  But  the  foil,  manoeuvred  by  an 
other  and  surer  hand  than  his,  deflected. 
An  unawaited  riposte  touched  him  on  the 
breast  and,  as  he  backed  from  the  prick,  a 
return  sudden  and  violent  ran  him  through 
the  throat. 

Before  him,  the  double  doors,  the  blazoned 
arch,  the  high  white  wall,  soared  in  the  air. 
They  came  to  him,  fell  on  him,  bore  him 
down.  From  under  him  the  earth  slid  gen 
tly.  The  savour  of  something  acrid  filled  his 
mouth.  Above  him  were  peering  faces  and 
fluttering  hands.  These  blankly  fainted. 
In  that  early  morning  it  was  night. 

Welden  looked  at  the  prostrate  form  and 


176          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

nodded  at  it.  From  the  street  beyond  there 
floated  a  cry,  trailing  and  musical,  the  call  of 
an  itinerant  offering  to  repair  broken  porce 
lain.  Otherwise  in  the  silence  of  the  fragrant 
garden  there  was  all  of  nature's  unconcern 
for  the  idiot  agitations  of  man. 

Save  Welden,  every  one,  Dr.  Meyer  in 
cluded,  had  got  about  Malakoff.  Welden, 
who  could  see  of  him  now  but  the  veneered 
sole  of  a  shoe,  stuck  his  foil  under  his  arm 
and  went,  buttoning  his  shirt  on  the  way,  to 
the  bench  where  he  had  tossed  his  coat.  The 
tableau  behind  him  differed  not  at  all  from 
one  that  he  had  seen  on  the  train.  It  was  an 
old  acquaintance  and  he  nodded  once 
more. 

At  the  bench  he  put  the  foil  down  and, 
getting  a  cigarette  from  his  coat,  lighted  it. 

Springingly  Le  Hillel  approached.  He 
had  with  him  the  long  green  bag  in  which 
now  was  the  other  foil. 

"You  are  wounded!"  he  exclaimed. 


THE  DUEL  177 

Welden,  expelling  a  puff  of  smoke  into 
the  damp,  sweet  air,  stared  at  him. 

"I  never  was  better  in  my  life." 

"But  look  at  yourself." 

Welden  did  look.  Beneath  his  left  arm 
his  shirt  was  red.  He  laughed. 

"That  comes  from  the  foil,  from  my  foil. 
Here,  take  it  and  put  it  with  the  other  one." 

In  a  moment  he  had  his  coat  on,  his  collar 
and  neckcloth  readjusted. 

"Where  is  my  stick?"  he  asked. 

"Your  stick?  In  the  motor  probably. 
Shall  we  go?" 

But  now  Louradour,  detaching  himself 
from  the  others,  advanced.  He  looked  at 
Welden. 

"Monsieur,  I  may  compliment  you  and 
reassure  you  also.  M.  de  Mai — " 

"Is  he  alive?"  Welden,  strangling  an 
oath,  threw  out. 

Louradour,  pressing  together  a  thumb 
and  forefinger,  exhibited  them. 


178          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"By  that  much!  The  carotid  artery  just 
escaped.  Allons!  So  much  the  better.  In 
no  time,  in  three  weeks,  he  will  be  on  his 
feet." 

Silently  Welden  cursed.  But  Loura- 
dour's  thumb  and  forefinger  had  separated, 
a  hand  was  extended  which  Welden  shook, 
and  then,  with  Le  Hillel,  he  passed  on 
through  the  slowly  opening  doors  to  the 
purring  car  without. 

"There's  your  stick,"  said  Le  Hillel  as 
they  reached  it. 

Welden  looked  at  the  sky.  "It's  rain 
ing,"  he  announced. 

"What  do  you  care?"  said  Le  Hillel  as 
both  got  into  the  machine  and  he  called: 
"Rue  de  la  Paix." 

"Personally,  not  a  rap,"  Welden  an 
swered.  "But  I  race  to-day  at  Chantilly. 
If  it  keeps  on  it  may  interfere  with  the 
others." 

Le    Hillel    considered    him    admiringly. 


THE  DUEL  179 

"Gourmand!"  he  cried.  "This  morning  you 
nearly  killed  a  man,  this  afternoon  you  will 
nearly  kill  a  horse.  That's  fine,  very 
fine." 

Welden  shrugged  his  shoulders.  To 
change  the  subject  he  asked:  "What  became 
of  the  little  chap?" 

"Meyer!  Good  Lord!  I  forgot  the  poor 
devil.  After  I  drop  you,  I'll  go  back  for 
him.  By  the  way,  his  fee  is  fifty  francs. 
Malakoff's  man  will  come  higher.  Did  you 
notice  that  he  was  decorated?  That  means 
a  hundred." 

"Yes,  confound  it;  and  he'll  earn  it.  I 
thought  I  had  spared  him  that.  If  I  had 
known  in  time  I  believe  I  would  have  fin 
ished  his  client  as  he  lay  there." 

Le  Hillel  laughed.  "No,  you  wouldn't, 
and,  anyway,  we  would  not  have  let  you. 
Besides,  why  be  so  bloodthirsty?  You 
fought  like  a  god,  now  you  will  ride  like 
a  demon.  I  would  give  a  red  pippin  to  see 


180          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

you.  By  George !  I  would  give  two  of  them, 
only—" 

"Only  what?" 

With  a  little  modest  air  Le  Hillel  pulled 
at  his  cuff. 

"A  lady  is  to  lunch  with  me." 

"Here's  the  fifty,"  said  Welden,  who 
meanwhile  had  got  the  money  out. 

Le  Hillel  pocketed  it.  "Shall  I  see  you 
to-morrow?" 

There  are  morrows  that  never  dawn. 
What  is  more  notable,  there  are  men  who 
know  they  will  not.  But  Welden  nodded 
and  shortly,  when  the  car  stopped  again  at 
his  hotel,  he  thanked  Le  Hillel,  who  whirled 
away. 


IX 
THE  RACE 

/ 

After  one  blue  brief  moment,  the  fore 
noon  died,  suffocated  with  clouds.  The 
agony  of  the  day  melted  into  rain.  The 
drops,  thin  and  hurried,  fell  in  sheets,  dra 
ping  the  trees  with  humid  fringes,  pouring 
their  melancholy  on  Chantilly's  sandy  soil 
and,  as  Welden,  in  breeches  and  boots,  drove 
up  from  the  station,  they  added  a  dreariness 
of  their  own  to  the  dreariness  that  was  his. 

To  greet  him  came  the  pungent  odour  of 
stables,  the  clean  smell  of  wet  turf.  He  had 
too  a  glimpse  of  dripping  ostlers,  the  vista 
of  a  vacant  lawn,  of  a  miniature  tribune  and 
of  a  course,  punctuated  by  fences  that  cir 
cled  the  grounds.  But,  in  lieu  of  the  care 
less  women,  the  careful  men,  the  line  of 
drags,  carriages  and  cars  that  ordinarily 


182  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

would  have  been  there,  there  was  but  gloom. 
Instead  of  clattering  hoofs,  ripples  of  laugh 
ter  and  mounting  cries,  there  was  silence  and 
the  falling  rain. 

At  the  perron  of  a  gaunt,  grey  house,  ugly 
and  comfortable,  the  cab  stopped.  As  Wei- 
den  got  out,  there  flew  up  a  covered  motor 
from  which  Cantire  and  another  man 
alighted. 

Cantire,  like  Welden,  was  in  riding  dress. 

"Hello!"  he  cried.  "Rather  rotten,  isn't 
it?"  Indicating  his  companion  he  added: 
"You  know  Lord  Ferrers?" 

"Met  you  at  Melton,"  said  the  latter,  ad 
vancing  toward  Welden,  his  hand  out 
stretched. 

He  was  tall,  slim,  very  fair.  He  wore  a 
monocle  and  spoke  with  a  slight  stutter. 

Welden,  recalling  some  incident,  men 
tioned  it  and  both  laughed.  Meanwhile  the 
door  opened.  All  three  passed  into  a  hall 
where  immediately  de  Dol  appeared. 


THE   RACE  183 

"But!"  the  Frenchman,  in  French,  ex 
claimed.  "What  good  wind  brings  youl 
You  received  my  dispatch?"  he  continued, 
looking  as  he  spoke  from  Welden's  boots  to 
Cantire's  breeches.  "The  race  is  postponed. 
Kara  Saraguine  and  Aquaviva  telegraphed 
yesterday  asking  me  to  put  it  off.  Think 
ing  you  would  agree  I  wired  you  both  at 
Deauville." 

"To  the  Villa  Portugaise?"  said  Cantire. 
"It's  closed.  The  duchess  chucked  the 
whole  thing.  Why,  I  haven't  an  idea. 
Have  you?"  he  asked,  turning  to  Welden. 

"Not  the  faintest." 

"Of  course  not.  How  should  you?  I  re 
member  now,  you  went  up  to  Paris  the  day 
before.  There  must  have  been  the  deuce  of 
a  row.  Malakoff  took  the  first  train  yester 
day.  Aquaviva  and  Saraguine  went  with 
him,  I  believe,  but  the  rest  of  us  straggled 
on  at  noon." 

"You  were  saying?"  intervened  de  Dol, 


184          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

whom  the  conversation,  carried  on  in  Eng 
lish,  had  left  in  the  dark.  "But,  I  pray  you, 
come  this  way." 

Moving  aside  he  motioned  them  into  a 
room  hung  with  etchings  and  photographs 
of  sporting  scenes  and  horses.  There  was  a 
table  there,  a  divan,  several  straight-backed 
chairs  and  the  frame  of  a  horse,  wooden  and 
articulated. 

"You  were  saying?"  he  repeated. 

Cantire,  in  French,  summarised  the  mat 
ter  for  him. 

De  Dol  raised  his  hands.  "But!  It  is  un 
believable!  There,  one  would  say,  was  a 
household  veritably  united.  I  did  not  grasp 
why  these  gentlemen  wired,  yet  it  could  not 
have  been  because  of  what  you  tell  me,  nor 
could  they  have  foreseen  the  rain.  Have 
you  seen  them  since?" 

Cantire  shook  his  head.  He  had  strad 
dled  the  wooden  horse.  Lord  Ferrers  was 
on  the  divan,  Welden  on  a  chair. 


THE    RACE  185 

De  Dol  turned.  "Have  you,  Monsieur 
Welden?" 

Welden  nodded. 

"And  they  said  nothing  about  the  race?" 

"Nothing." 

"It  is  unbelievable!" 

"They  could  not  very  well,"  Welden  re 
sumed.  "I  was  having  a  word  with  Mala- 
koff  and  they  were  acting  for  him." 

"The  deuce!"  cried  Cantire,  sliding  from 
the  horse.  "A  duel!  And  you  not  even 
pinked!" 

He  laughed.  The  idea  of  it  pleased  him. 
His  grandfather  was  a  duke,  a  real  one,  a 
stately  old  man  with  a  head  empty  but 
noble.  Whether  on  that  account  or  for 
other  reasons  is  immaterial,  but  he  had 
always  thought  Malakoff  a  mucker.  It  was 
not  on  his  account  he  had  gone  to  Deauville. 
It  was  for  Sally. 

"But!"  exclaimed  de  Dol,  his  mouth 
agape.  A  little  panorama  was  unfolding 


186          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

before  him — Welden  and  Sally  surprised 
in  amorous  conversation  by  Sally's  husband. 
"And  Malakoff  ?" 

"He  will  be  all  right  shortly." 

As  Welden  spoke,  de  Dol  bowed  slowly  to 
an  advancing  understanding  of  it  all.  Mal 
akoff  s  seconds,  aware  of  the  conversation 
and  foreseeing  that  for  at  least  one  of  the 
principals  the  duel  would  be  damaging  had, 
for  that  reason,  asked  that  the  race  be  post 
poned. 

"All  the  same,"  he  affably  rejoined,  "It 
was  most  amiable  of  you  to  come.  When  it 
rains  one's  friends  are  doubly  welcome." 

Welden  turned  to  Cantire.  "Are  you 
afraid  of  a  wetting?" 

"Good  Lord,  no,  why?" 

"Our  horses  are  here,  if  we  don't  race  now 
we  won't  race  at  all.  I  will  back  myself 
against  you.  I  will  back  myself  against 
Ferrers  too,  if  he  will.  M.  de  Dol  can  give 
him  a  mount." 


THE    RACE  187 

"Done,"  said  Cantire.  "Let's  make  it  a 
fiver." 

Lord  Ferrers  dropped  his  monocle.  "Not 
for  me,  thanks,  but  I'll  hold  the  stakes." 

"You  were  saying?"  asked  de  Dol,  who 
had  caught  his  name  but  who  otherwise  was 
again  in  the  dark  and  that  too  despite  the 
fact  that  a  flash  of  intense  vividness  lit  the 
room,  one  which  a  great  crash  followed  in 
stantly. 

"It  will  be  clearing  shortly,"  said  Ferrers, 
rising  from  the  divan  and  peering  through  a 
window.  "I  say,"  he  called,  "I  believe  it  is." 

De  Dol  meanwhile,  to  whom  Welden  had 
translated  the  gist  of  it  and  who  thought 
him  and  Cantire  crazy,  was  giving  the  neces 
sary  orders. 

Welden  got  from  his  chair  and  joined  the 
others  at  the  window.  The  rain  had  ceased. 
In  the  west  was  the  glow  of  renaissant  day. 
From  a  tree  near  by  water  was  falling  in 
little  drops,  soft  and  multiple.  Overhead 


188  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

in  the  still  neutral  sky,  long  ribbons  of 
ravens  formed  themselves  into  black  wreaths 
and  sombre  garlands.  Welden,  to  whom 
the  visible  existed,  considered  the  signs 
which  it  is  perhaps  their  mysterious  duty  to 
convey. 

But  now  a  footman  appeared  with  rain 
coats  and  a  lad  from  the  stables,  touching 
his  forehead,  just  showed  his  nose. 

"The  horses  are  here,"  said  de  Dol.  "Will 
you  have  a  coat,  monsieur?"  he  asked  of 
Ferrers. 

The  latter  displayed  an  umbrella  that 
was  thin  as  a  walking-stick. 

"Thanks,  no.     This  will  do  me." 

De  Dol  however  had  himself  helped  into 
a  great-coat,  took  a  fat  umbrella  besides, 
swung  a  field  glass  about  him  and,  accom 
panied  by  the  others,  went  out  to  the  perron 
before  which  stablemen  swarmed  and  the 
hunters  stood. 

The  course  began  the  throw  of  a  stone  be- 


THE    RACE  189 

yond.  While  Welden  and  Cantire  exam 
ined  the  girths,  verified  the  stirrups,  looked 
to  the  bits  and  bridles,  Ferrers  and  de  Dol 
passed  on.  Before  they  reached  the  stand, 
Cantire  and  Welden  were  in  the  saddle. 

"I  say,  Ferrers,"  Cantire  eaUed.  "You 
give  the  signal,  will  you?" 

"Very  good,"  the  Englishman  answered. 
"Now,  then,  steady." 

He  pulled  a  rope.  Before  the  flag  could 
fall,  Welden's  horse,  over  zealously,  had 
bolted. 

Welden  got  him  in  hand,  turned  him, 
brought  him  back,  flattering  him  with  pats 
on  the  shoulder. 

"Vive  1'Angleterre!"  shouted  de  Dol. 
"Vive  1'Amerique!" 

"And  vive  la  France!"  Welden  and  Can- 
tire,  almost  in  unison,  responded. 

De  Dol  laughed  with  satisfaction.  He 
still  thought  them  mad  and  said  as  much  to 
Ferrers. 


190          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

The  latter  inserted  his  monocle.  "The 
going  does  not  seem  so  bad  and  the  obstacles 
are  not  tremendous." 

He  spoke  in  French,  very  correctly,  but 
with  so  marked  a  British  accent,  that  he 
might  as  well  have  replied  in  English. 
De  Dol  thought  he  was  agreeing  with  him 
and  laughed  again. 

"Steady!"  Ferrers  called  and  for  the  sec 
ond  time  pulled  the  flag-rope. 

This  time  they  were  off,  taking  the  sticks 
as  though  there  were  nothing  there,  clearing 
them,  in  spite  of  the  rain,  easily,  without 
effort. 

De  Dol  followed  them  through  his  glass, 
Ferrers  through  his  monocle. 

Beyond,  the  country  stretched,  inert  and 
dolent.  In  the  west  the  glow  had  height 
ened.  Overhead,  the  darker  sky  was  veined 
with  flashes  thin  and  sudden.  The  ravens, 
assembled  now  in  screaming  flight,  shot 
southward. 


THE   RACE  191 

Quickly  but  quietly  Ferrers  swore.  Can- 
tire  was  down. 

"I  awaited  it!"  cried  de  Dol.  But  at  once 
he  could  see  that'the  boy  was  up  and  in  a 
moment  that  he  .was  on  and  off  again. 

Welden  now  was  leading.  Blazes  tore 
on.  The  splendid  brute,  with  his  impudent 
eye  and  shoulders  like  the  top  of  a  hay 
stack,  had  covered  the  course;  he  was  near- 
ing  the  stand  when,  just  as  he  was  about  to 
take  the  final  fence,  there  came  a  flash 
vivider  than  any,  a  bolt  so  neighbourly  and 
dazzling  that  it  looked  raspberry,  and 
whether  it  unnerved  the  horse  or  the  man 
or  both,  in  any  event  Welden  bent  heavily 
forward  and  together,  turning  a  somersault, 
they  tumbled. 

'For  a  second,  without  sense  of  injury  or 
sensation  of  pain,  Welden  lingered.  Then 
his  two  selves,  the  conscious  and  the  sub 
conscious,  scattered,  evaporated,  ceased  to 
know.  -Again  on  that  day  it  was  night. 


192          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"God  of  gods!"  cried  de  Dol.  "I  said 
they  were  mad!" 

Ferrers,  extracting  his  monocle,  vaulted 
to  the  ground,  where,  as  from  the  ground 
itself,  stablemen  came  swarming,  while,  over 
all,  indifferently,  from  disrupted  clouds,  the 
sun  looked  out. 


X 

THE  DEVIL 

A  surgeon  obtained,  it  was  found  that 
Welden  had  a  fracture  of  the  ankle,  a  frac 
ture  of  the  collarbone  and  a  fracture  of  the 
skull. 

The  surgeon,  Dr.  Binet-Valmer,  thought 
the  first  fracture  trite;  the  second,  stupid. 
Had  there  been  but  these  he  would  have 
abandoned  Welden  to  other  hands.  But  the 
third  fracture  had  the  high  merit  of  interest 
ing  this  man  whose  country-seat  was  near 
by  and  who  was  one  of  the  lights  of  French 
science. 

"He  won't  die  to-day,"  he  absently  an 
nounced. 

As  for  the  rest,  a  phrase  which,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  ignoramuses  about  him,  he 
employed  to  designate  the  cerebral  cortex — 


194-          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

that  marvellous  pulp  behind  the  forehead 
through  which  the  objective  changes  of  the 
external  world  are,  by  some  undiscovered 
witchery,  converted  into  the  subjective 
changes  of  consciousness — concerning  that 
magical  mystery  and  the  fate  of  it,  he  had 
an  opinion  which  he  kept  to  himself. 

The  examination  concluded,  he  addressed 
the  Comte  de  Dol  precisely  as  though  the 
poor  man  were  a  lackey.  He  did  not  regard 
him  as  such,  he  considered  him  an  insect. 
The  Earl  of  Ferrers  and  the  Honourable 
Mull  Cantire  were  to  him  two  insects 
more.  Welden  was  not  an  insect  or  even 
an  entity,  he  was  a  Case. 

"An  ambulance,"  he  ordered. 

But  de  Dol  shook  his  head.  The  frac 
tures  had  occurred  on  his  grounds,  to  a 
guest  of  his  bidding,  and,  with  that  decent 
sentiment  of  what  decency  is  which  the 
Arabs  discovered,  he  had  Welden  tended  in 
his  house. 


THE  DEVIL  195 

Through  the  enigmatic  laws  of  life  any 
kindness  is  repaid  in  pain.  De  Dol  never 
actively  regretted  the  charity,  though  cer 
tainly  had  he  wished  he  might  have,  for 
when  the  report  of  it  all  had  gone  abroad,  a 
woman,  very  modishly  attired,  emerged 
from  a  cab  at  the  perron  and  demanded 
to  be  taken  instantly  to  where  Welden 
was. 

Obviously  the  lady  appertained  to  that 
class  which  the  French  describe  as  the  top 
of  the  basket.  But  de  Dol's  footman  knew 
his  business. 

"Perfectly,  madame,"  he  replied.  "Will 
madame  give  herself  the  trouble  to  pass  this 
way?" 

Whereupon  he  showed  her  into  the  room 
hung  with  pictures  of  sporting  scenes  and 
horses. 

From  the  threshold  he  added:  "Will 
madame  say  whom  I  am  to  announce?" 

"The  Duchess  of  Malakoff." 


196          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

The  man  bowed  and  vanished.  Presently 
he  returned,  ushering  de  DoL 

"But!  But!"  exclaimed  the  latter,  shuf 
fling  in,  affecting  to  seem  pleased  yet  suc 
ceeding  so  meagrely  that,  to  cover  his  em 
barrassment,  he  raised  and  bent  over  the 
gloved  hand  which  Sally  put  out,  wondering 
all  the  time  what  the  devil  he  could  do  with 
her. 

Sally  told  him.  In  her  sweetest  voice  she 
said:  "Take  me  to  him,  please." 

De  Dol,  sparring  for  wind,  protested, 
"Duchess,  he  is  unconscious." 

Sally  motioned  at  the  door.  "I  know.  I 
have  brought  a  trained  nurse.  We  will  take 
care  of  him  together." 

De  Dol,  sparring  still,  again  protested. 
"Duchess,  I  pray  you,  consider  your  posi 
tion." 

Sally  lifted  her  little  chin.  "He  consid 
ered  that.  He  fought  for  me.  What  I  con 
sider  is  his  condition." 


THE  DEVIL  197 

But  now  de  Dol  had  got  his  wind.  For 
a  moment,  thoughtfully,  with  kind,  honest 
eyes  he  looked  in  hers.  Then  he  went  at 
her. 

"Duchess,  believe  me,  never  intentionally 
have  I  refused  a  lady  anything.  It  is  re 
grettable  to  be  obliged  to  refuse  you.  But 
your  husband  is  my  friend.  He  has  been 
gravely  injured  by  this  gentleman.  If  you 
will  not  consider  your  position,  I  pray  you 
consider  mine.  Can  you  not  see  that  it 
would  be  intolerable  were  I  to  do  as  you 
ask?" 

Sally,  floored  but  not  defeated,  leaned 
from  the  chair  in  which  she  sat,  flung  her 
arms  on  the  table  beside  her,  sank  her  head 
there,  and  audibly  began  to  cry. 

Men  who  face  death  unflinchingly,  quail 
at  a  woman's  tears.  What  is  worse  women 
know  it.  Sally  used  hers  much  as  though 
they  constituted  a  stick  and  de  Dol,  bruised 
and  belaboured,  cursed  himself  that  he  had 


198          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

not,  at  the  start,  invented  some  ukase  of  the 
surgeon  to  which  she  must  unquestionably 
bow.  Yet,  after  all,  he  reflected,  the  sur 
geon  certainly  would  pronunciamento,  and 
that  edict  he  could  hold  in  reserve  should 
other  tactics  which  then  occurred  to  him, 
fail. 

Timorously  he  approached  and  gingerly, 
with  one  finger,  touched  her. 

At  the  attention,  Sally's  slight  frame 
shook. 

"Duchess,  calm  yourself.  Calm  yourself, 
I  pray  you.  If  you  will  but  calm  yourself, 
there  is  a  little  idea  that  has  come  to  me 
which  may  result  in  what  you  wish.  Will 
you  let  me  tell  you?  Will  you?" 

But  Sally  felt  now  too  securely  in 
trenched  to  yield  to  what,  perhaps,  were 
mere  treacherous  cajolements.  She  con 
tinued  to  weep  or  appeared  to,  yet,  apparent 
ly  also  in  a  fashion  more  broken,  leaving  in 
vitingly  between  the  sobs  increasing  inter- 


THE  DEVIL  199 

vals  during  which  he  could  speak  and  which, 
if  what  he  said  were  not  agreeable,  she,  with 
renewed  activity,  could  curtail. 

Warily  but  boldly  he  utilised  one  such 
pause. 

"Duchess,  let  us  see.  Be  reasonable 
enough  to  listen.  From  the  moment  when 
this  gentleman  was  carried  from  that  di 
van  to  where  he  now  is,  I  have  not  seen  him, 
no  one  has,  save  the  surgeon,  the  aids  and 
imfirmieres,  nor,  until  he  is  conscious  do  I 
believe  that  the  surgeon  will  permit  anyone 
to  see  him,  no  one,  not  even  the  man's  own 
mother  were  she  here.  If,  therefore,  I  can 
not  do  as  you  would  wish  me,  it  is  not  merely 
for  your  sake  and  my  sake,  it  is  for  his.  But 
when  he  is  better,  when  such  danger  as  there 
is  has  been  passed,  enfin!  in  a  little  while,  I, 
I  who  speak  to  you,  will  not  be  here.  Then 
who  comes  and  who  goes,  I  do  not  know.  I 
do  not  inquire.  It  is  my  intendant  who  has 
charge  of  such  things.  Do  you  appreciate, 


200          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Duchess?  My  intendant  has  not  the  honour 
of  your  acquaintance;  he  is  not  a  friend  of 
the  duke.  Let  us  suppose  then  that  of  a 
morning  a  lady  arrives  and  says:  'I  have 
come  to  sit  with  this  gentleman.  I  am  his 
sister,  his  promised,  his  chere  amie,  his  what 
ever  you  like.'  My  intendant  says:  'But 
what  then?  But  certainly!  And  pat  at  is, 
patatas.'  And  behold  the  lady  who  then  cre 
ates  the  rain  and  the  fine  weather.  Does 
that  say  nothing  to  you,  Duchess?  Does  it 
not  seem  well  machined?  Later,  I  return. 
My  intendant  says:  'The  sister,  the  prom 
ised,  the  chere  amie,  the  whatever  you  like 
of  the  sick  gentleman  has  been  here.'  And 
I  say:  'That  does  not  regard  me.  I  wash 
my  hands.' ' 

Long  since  the  intervals  between  the  sobs 
had  so  elongated  that  the  sobs  themselves 
had  ceased.  Sally's  bowed  head  was  lifted. 
For  a  lady  who  had  wept  so  profusely  her 
eyes  were  phenomenally  bright. 


THE  DEVIL  201 

"Yes,"  de  Dol  resumed.  "That  is  what 
I  say  to  him.  I  say:  'I  wash  my  hands.' ' 

"You  promise  I  may  come?" 

"But  no,  Duchess.  But  no.  I  do  not 
promise.  It  is  not  for  me  to  promise  any 
thing.  I  have  nothing  to  promise  about.  I 
play  that  I  am  dead.  It  is  when  I  am  gone 
for  the  lady  of  whom  I  speak  to  do  as  she 
may  wish.  Of  my  departure  she  can  in 
form  herself.  It  is  easy  as  Good-day." 

Sally  stood  up.  She  held  out  her  hand 
and  looking  at  him  through  her  oblique, 
half -closed  and  entirely  tearless  eyes  said 
sweetly:  "You're  a  dear." 

De  Dol  took  the  hand.  Bending  over  it 
he  sighed,  deeply,  with  relief. 

"A  cup  of  tea,  Duchess?  A  glass  of 
wine?" 

Sally,  shaking  her  head  at  the  offer, 
sighed  too. 

"Forgive  me,  if  I  have  seemed  to  in 
sist." 


202          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Duchess,  I  pray  of  you,  it  is  for  me  to 
ask  your  pardon." 

Sally  moved  on.  A  moment  or  two  later 
when  de  Dol  after  accompanying  her  to  the 
cab,  saw  to  it  that  she  really  got  in,  really 
drove  off,  he  sighed  afresh  and  muttered: 

"Let  the  devil  catch  me  again — if  he  can!" 


XI 
AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  SWAN 

To  those  about  Welden  it  was  as  though 
he  were  dead,  drowned  rather,  sunk  into 
depths  where  nothing  can  follow,  into  those 
deepest  depths  where  life  is  without  form, 
without  colour,  without  sensation  of  any 
kind.  But  presently  either  because  of  their 
efforts,  or  because  of  influences  not  higher; 
but  the  reverse,  because  he  had  not  suffered 
enough,  death,  loosening  its  hold,  retreated ; 
life  beckoned,  calling  him  from  where  he 
swooned,  and  imperceptibly,  little  by  little, 
after  infinite  hesitations,  relapses,  retrievals, 
drifting  upward  from  those  depths,  he 
awoke. 

Where  he  was  he  did  not  know.  What 
had  happened,  he  could  not  tell.  He  did  not 


204          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

try.  He  did  not  care.  He  had  but  one  wish, 
to  sink  back  again  and  sleep.  But  again  life 
caught  and  called  him,  wrapped  him,  rocked 
him,  accustoming  him  gradually  to  its  sub 
tleties,  reconciling  him  to  it  and  to  himself* 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Sally  de 
clared  herself  a  miserable  woman.  In  the 
opinion  of  the  world  she  deserved  to  be. 
The  opinion  of  the  world  is  very  valuable. 
The  fried  mixture  of  falsities  on  which  it 
daily  breakfasts  would  induce  apoplexy  in 
any  entity  less  robust.  In  its  distinguished 
opinion  Sally's  husband  had  fought  because 
of  her  with  a  man  who  was  engaged  to  one 
of  her  intimate  friends  and  whom  she  had 
inveigled  from  her. 

Even  in  the  way  we  live  now  such  behav 
iour  is  not  regarded  as  nice.  Yet  any 
woman  might  have  done  as  much,  and  more 
and  worse,  and  been  smiled  at,  provided  only 
she  and  her  husband  continued,  outwardly 
at  least,  on  good  terms.  But  on  the  open 


AT   THE    SIGN   OF    THE   SWAN      205 
scandal  of  scandalous  ruptures  the  world, 

• 

which  if  credulous  is  also  discreet,  turns 
always  its  ponderous  back. 

It  turned  it  on  Sally.  Though  young, 
rich,  good-looking  and  a  duchess,  the  atti 
tude  of  the  world  justified  her  declaration 
and  the  knowledge  that  it  did  gave  Sally's 
mother  an  attack  of  indignation  morbus  of 
which  the  nausea  lasted  through  twelve  pages 
of  pen  and  ink. 

For  final  hiccough  there  was  this:  "You 
have  disgraced  me.  No  decent  person  will 
ever  receive  you  unless  you  return  to  your 
husband  at  once." 

Mrs.  Kandy  was  then  at  Aix.  The  par 
oxysm  dispatched,  she  felt  better.  Sally 
was  then  at  Chantilly.  The  eructation  re 
ceived,  she  felt  no  worse.  Lodged  at  the 
time  at  the  Sign  of  the  Swan,  she  had  with 
her  Harris  and  Perkins.  She  had  also  her 
thoughts.  These,  if  not  many,  were  pleas 
ant. 


206          DAUGHTERS  OF,  THE  RICH 

Among  them  was  the  fact  that  Mr.  Ridge- 
way,  who  had  conducted  the  delicate  ar 
rangements  of  her  marriage,  was  occupied 
with  the  still  more  delicate  details  of  her  di 
vorce.  Before  going  to  Deauville  she  had 
consulted  him.  On  her  return  she  had  con 
sulted  him  again.  She  had  done  better.  She 
had  retained  him.  He  had  assured  her  that 
she  could  be  free. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  Evidence 
of  the  conversation  that  had  occurred  on  the 
night  of  July  the  Fourth  sufficed.  But  with 
that  regard  for  the  honour  of  families  and 
the  repute  of  women  which  Anglo-Saxon 
tribunals  lack,  during  the  punctilious  and 
brief  debates,  the  court,  in  withholding  any 
mention  of  the  co-respondent's  name,  ob 
scured  the  lady  from  the  public. 

That  is  but  gentlemanly.  None  the  less 
the  obscurity  was  one  in  which  the  world  saw 
many  things,  the  obviousness  of  the  fact,  for 
instance,  that  Sally  had  but  stolen  a  march 


AT    THE    SIGN   OF    THE    SWAN      207 

on  Malakoff  who,  gallantly,  had  desisted 
from  counter  charges. 

Sally  did  not  attempt  to  undeceive  the 
world  which  would  not  have  believed  her  had 
she  tried.  She  did  not  try,  however.  It 
would  not  have  suited  her  book  to  do  so.  She 
had  another  and  a  more  agreeable  task. 

De  Dol  meanwhile  had  gone,  summer  was 
going  and  Welden,  issuing  from  the  great 
iced  bath  of  death,  remounted  to  life's  sur 
face.  Among  other  lesions,  there  had  been 
an  injury  to  the  occipital  cortex  which  re 
sulted  in  impairment  of  vision.  For  a  time 
he  could  not  distinguish  objects.  When  he 
succeeded,  the  first  thing  he  saw  was  Sally. 

He  resented  her  presence.  He  regarded 
it  as  an  intrusion.  Moreover,  the  reason  of 
it  was  beyond  him.  Then  from  being  a  phe 
nomenon  objectionable  and  occult,  it  became 
a  phase  of  his  condition,  one  that  primarily 
he  accepted  from  sheer  inability  to  avoid 
and  finally  from  the  familiarising  effects  of 


208          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

habit.  It  is  related  that  men  who  entered 
the  Bastille  as  though  it  were  their  grave, 
had  to  be  afterward  ejected  by  force.  They 
had  got  used  to  it  and  what  human  beings 
get  used  to  they  get  to  like.  That  was  the 
case  with  Welden.  In  accounting  for  Sal 
ly's  visits  he  forgot  her  former  ambuscades 
and  attributed  present  attentions  to  the  ef 
fort  he  had  made  to  rid  the  world  of  Mala- 
koff.  Anyway,  what  did  it  matter?  Sally 
made  his  prison  endurable.  She  was  blithe 
as  a  humming  bird.  On  the  end  of  her  fin 
gers  was  every  kind  of  pretty  gesture. 
They  were  alert  too,  very  divinatory.  They 
knew  what  he  wanted  as  soon  as  he  did. 
They  omitted  to  be  in  the  way.  They  grew 
discreet.  Recognising  their  usefulness, 
they  ceased  to  flutter.  They  took  them 
selves  away,  and  away  remained,  until  their 
return  was  solicited. 

When  that  occurred  Sally,  even  to  the 
world,  could  no  longer  affect  to  be  a  mis- 


AT   THE    SIGN   OF   THE   SWAN      209 

erable  woman.  She  radiated  smiles,  she  ex 
haled  good  humour.  Dr.  Binet-Valmer, 
who  thoroughly  approved  of  the  presence  of 
young  gentlewomen  in  the  bedrooms  of  con 
valescents,  encouraged  her  visits.  He  knew 
she  was  only  an  insect  but  he  realised  that 
she  was  a  pretty  one.  Without  any  faith  in 
drugs  whatever,  with  hardly  any  faith  in 
anything,  he  yet  had  confidence  in  the  tonic 
of  prettiness,  smiles  and  good  humour.  The 
infirmieres  had  too.  The  intendant  had 
also.  To  them,  to  the  trainers  and  stable 
men,  Sally  was  the  right  sort.  There  was 
no  end  to  her  presents  and  pourboires. 

Such  were  her  occupations.  In  addition 
she  had  another.  She,  too,  was  having  a  run. 

The  post  was  a  good  bit  off.  Between  her 
and  it  were  wide  ditches  and  tall  fences.  At 
any  moment  a  tremendous  crumpler  might 
occur.  But  behind  her  were  other  obstacles, 
bigger  and  wider  still,  timber  which  she 
thought  she  could  not  take  and  which  she 


210          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

had  cleared  without  effort.  Moreover,  now 
she  was  nearing  the  home  stretch.  Provided 
she  kept  her  seat,  kept,  too,  a  hand  light, 
yet  steady,  luck  might  land  her  a  winner, 
and  at  it  she  went,  full  tilt,  straight  ahead, 
at  a  pace  so  clinking  that  it  accounted  per 
haps  for  her  smiles  and  good  humour. 

It  was  not  because  of  these  radiations, 
hut  because  of  others,  because  it  was  his 
destiny  to  do  so,  that  Welden  no  longer  re 
sented  her  presence.  He  accepted  it,  but 
with  that  curious  lassitude  which  Death,  in 
revenge  it  may  be,  puts  on  those  for  whom 
it  has  come  and  not  got. 

Apathetic  and  indifferent,  he  rejected 
the  news  of  the  day,  ignored  the  cataclysms 
in  Wall  street,  refused  to  see  Cantire,  Le 
Hillel,  Lord  Ferrers  and  the  string  of  visi 
tors  that  called.  But  apart  from  the  apathy, 
apart,  too,  from  the  debility  incident  to  his 
condition,  health  had  returned.  Long  since 
his  collar-bone  had  been  mended  and  his 


AT    THE    SIGN   OF    THE   SWAN      211 

ankle,  treated  after  the  setting  to  massage 
instead  of  plaster,  was  now  but  a  little  stiff. 

Presently,  Sally  prompting,  these  things 
he  recognised  and  recognising  also  that  fur 
ther  delay  would  constitute  a  breach  of  hos 
pitality,  he  wrote  de  Dol  his  thanks,  asked 
him  as  an  additional  obligation  to  accept 
his  hunter  and,  after  distributing  princely 
presents  to  the  service,  had  himself  trans 
ported  to  the  Sign  of  the  Swan. 

"What  you  need,"  Sally  said  to  him  that 
evening,  "is  a  good,  long  sea  trip.  Dr. 
Binet-Valmer  told  me  so.  Don't  you  agree 
with  him?" 

They  were  at  table  in  her  sitting  room  at 
the  Hotel  du  Cygne  where,  served  by  Har 
ris,  they  had  dined.  The  cloth  had  not  yet 
been  removed  but  Harris  had  gone.  Sally 
wore  a  gown  in  the  corsage  of  which  ochre 
and  lilac  were  blended.  Welden's  evening 
coat  fell  about  him  loosely.  He  was  smok 
ing. 


212  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Don't  you?"  Sally  repeated. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "But  hardly  alone 
and  for  the  moment  I  know  no  one  whom  I 
could  ask  to  go  with  me." 

Sally  smiled,  displaying  her  teeth,  bits  of 
mother  of  pearl,  glistening  and  pointed. 

"You  could  ask  me." 

At  this  prelude  to  the  Invitation  a  la 
valse,  Welden  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
Men  generally  thought  Sally  very  fetching. 
Her  mauve  eyes,  oblique  and  half -closed, 
might  have  tempted  saints,  demons  even, 
with  whom  she  was  perhaps  akin.  But  she 
failed  to  represent  to  Welden  that  which 
makes  some  men  constant  not  necessarily  to 
one  particular  woman  but  to  one  particular 
feminine  type. 

"Nonsense,"  he  told  her. 

"It  is  not  nonsense  at  all,"  Sally,  shaking 
her  head  and  cocking  an  eye  at  him,  retorted. 
"Why  do  you  say  so?" 

Welden    considered   the    prelude   closer. 


AT    THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SWAN      213 

After  all  there  was  a  certain  worldly  jus 
tice  in  it.  Maud  having  taken  up  with  Mal- 
akoff,  it  was  perhaps  nonsense  for  him  to 
balk  at  taking  up  with  Malakoff  s  wife. 
Jointly  and  severally  they  could  combine 
for  the  payment  of  old  scores.  At  the  same 
time,  between  public  and  private  payment, 
there  was  a  margin. 

"Why  do  you?"  Sally  repeated. 

Welden  lighted  a  fresh  cigar.  "I  should 
be  compromising  you  irretrievably." 

Sally  sighed.  "You  have  already,"  she 
promptly  answered. 

From  over  the  cigar  Welden  looked  at 
her.  About  her  throat  was  a  string  of 
pearls.  One  hand  that  lay  invitingly  on  the 
table  was  covered  with  gems.  But  from  it 
the  pretty  gestures  had  gone,  from  her  face 
the  smiles  had  passed.  She  looked  virginal 
and  sad,  a  sort  of  melancholy  angel,  only 
much  better  dressed  than  angels  usually  are. 
Through  her  half -closed  eyes  she  watched 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

him.  There  had  been  her  visits  to  de  Dol's, 
he  was  thinking,  but  that  was  her  affair. 

"In  what  way?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  you  see,  don't  you  know,  every 
body  says  the  duel  was  on  my  ac 
count." 

That  also«Welden  considered.  It  seemed 
logical  enough.  On  a  certain  night  Sally 
had  abandoned  her  husband.  Within  thirty- 
six  hours  he  and  that  husband  had  fought. 
Their  reasons  for  fighting  no  one,  save  them 
selves,  Sally  and  Maud  could  possibly  know. 
Clearly  it  was  logical  enough  and  yet  insuf 
ficient  to  warrant  the  full  measure  of  the 
Invitation. 

"Mrs.  Cawtree  wrote  to  me,"  Sally  re 
sumed,  "and  Fanny  Solferino  and  my 
mother.  My  mother  was  very  violent.  My 
mother  said  that  I  had  disgraced  her.  She 
declared  that  no  decent  person  would  ever 
receive  me,  unless — ' 

Sally  paused.     Like  the  lady  whom  she 


AT    THE    SIGN   OF    THE   SWAN      215 

was  quoting,  she  sometimes  embroidered 
the  truth. 

"Unless — "  she  presently  continued,  and 
paused  again. 

But,  as  Welden  manifested  no  interest  in 
the  proviso,  she  prodded  him. 

"I  don't  like  to  tell  you." 

Then,  seeing  that  Welden  had  no  inten 
tion  of  urging  her,  she  took  her  courage  in 
her  jewelled  hand. 

"Unless  you  marry  me." 

Welden  had  been  occupied  with  the  logic 
of  her  previous  statement,  but  the  unobtru 
sive  modesty  of  this  announcement  surprised 
him  from  it. 

He  removed  his  cigar.  "I  had  an  idea 
that  you  were  married  already." 

Into  the  melancholy  of  Sally's  face  there 
crept  a  smile.  "I  was,"  she  answered.  "I 
am  no  longer." 

"Ah,"  said  Welden.    "Is  Malakoff  dead?" 

But  now  the  smile  in  Sally's  face  deep- 


216  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ened.  It  burrowed  under  the  melancholy 
and  tossed  it  aside.  She  laughed. 

"No,  divorced.  It  was  so  amusing  too. 
Shall  I  ten  you  about  it?  Shall  I?  Well, 
after  I  put  in  the  petition,  the  judge  had  us 
both  see  him  in  private.  Ridgeway  told  me 
he  would.  It  appears  that  in  divorce  cases 
here  the  judge  takes  a  sort  of  fatherly  at 
titude  and  tries  to  get  the  parties  to  make 
up  and,  if  you  will  believe  me,  he  did  try. 
He  was  so  nice  about  it,  too,  that  you  would 
have  thought  he  was  my  aunt  and  Malakoff 
was  so  rude  you  would  have  thought  he  was 
my  mother.  But  the  judge  was  really  very 
nice.  And  so  civil!  Dear  me,  his  mouth 
was  just  full  of  madame  la  duchesse  and 
monsieur  de  due.  Later  on,  in  the  decree,  he 
fined  his  monsieur  le  due  a  hundred  francs. 
Don't  you  think  it  was  amusing?" 

Welden  shrugged  his  shoulders.  After 
the  duel  it  had  been  grievous  to  him  that  he 
had  not  killed  the  man.  Now  he  did  not 


AT    THE    SIGN    OF    THE    SWAN      217 

care.  During  the  race  he  had  tried  to  kill 
himself.  There  too  he  had  failed.  But  that 
also  was  a  matter  of  indifference.  Before 
either  race  or  duel  he  had  been  obsessed  by 
the  vision  of  a  pillowed  head.  It  had  gone. 
Though  he  had  failed  with  Malakoff  and 
failed  with  himself,  he  had  thoroughly  assas 
sinated  that. 

"Don't  you  think  it  was  amusing?"  Sally 
repeated. 

"You  certainly  have  not  been  idle,"  Wei- 
den  replied.  "What  were  the  grounds?" 

Sally  made  a  gesture.  Though  there  are 
things  that  men  do,  there  are  women  who  do 
not  mention  them. 

Welden  nodded.    "Who  was  the  co?" 

"Who?"  cried  Sally.  "Have  you  forgot 
ten  already?  Don't  you  remember  the  night 
of  the  Fourth  of  July?" 

Welden  nodded  again  and  knocked  the 
ashes  from  his  cigar.  "You  are  no  longer, 
then,  madame  la  duchesse." 


218  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Smilingly  Sally  stood  up.  She  moved 
from  the  table,  dropped  him  a  curtsy  and 
sweetly,  yet  simply,  replied: 

"I  am  Sally  Kandy  again,  and  yours  if 
you  will  have  me." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Welden,  quite  as 
though  he  had  been  offered  another  cup  of 
coffee.  "Thank  you.  But  did  not  this  Ridge- 
way  tell  you  about  the  Court  of  Cassation? 
Malakoff  has  six  months  in  which  to  appeal. 
Of  course  he  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
None  the  less,  in  the  interim,  any  marriage 
of  yours  would  be  bigamous." 

At  that  last  word  Sally  flushed  and  sat 
down.  It  is  possible  that  she  had  miscon* 
strued  its  meaning. 

"What  a  dreadful  expression,"  she  ex 
claimed.  "I  am  sure  I  never  should  think 
of  anything  so  horrid.  But,  in  the  interim, 
as  you  call  it,  what  is  there  to  prevent  us 
from  going  to  South  Africa  or,  better  still, 
to  the  East?" 


AT    THE    SIGN   OF    THE   SWAN      219 

At  the  door  came  a  rap.  Harris  entered, 
busying  himself  with  the  cloth.  Welden  got 
up  and  limped  to  the  window. 

In  the  park  without,  leaves  were  falling, 
falling  from  branch  to  branch;  falling  slow 
ly,  as  with  regret;  falling  undecidedly  with 
precaution.  In  their  faint  rustle  was  a 
sound  such  as  the  steps  of  fate  may  make 
when  approaching  furtively,  a-tiptoe. 

The  hesitancy  of  it  filtered  into  Welden's 
thoughts.  Usually,  he  knew  what  he  had  to 
do  and  did  it.  But  illness  plays  strange 
tricks  and  destiny  plays  others.  After  all, 
he  told  himself,  eventually  there  would  be 
someone  else.  Perhaps  as  well  then  Sally 
as  another.  At  least  she  would  serve  to  show 
to  Maud  how  indifferent  he  was  to  her.  Even 
otherwise,  how  should  it  matter?  How  should 
anything  matter  any  more? 

He  turned.  Harris  had  gone.  Sally 
through  her  half -closed  eyes,  was  watching 
him. 


220          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Very  good,"  he  said.  "We  will  go  to  the 
Orient  since  you  wish  it." 

With  a  feline  twist  of  the  tongue  SalJy 
moistened  her  lips.  She  had  the  sensation 
of  being  lifted  lightly  in  the  air.  It  was  the 
last  fence.  She  had  reached  the  post  a  win 
ner. 

Alone  in  his  room  that  night  Welden  still 
heard  the  leaves.  They  fell  slowly,  solemn 
ly,  burying  the  past  beneath  their  slender 
weight,  raising  between  him  and  it  a  veil, 
tenuous  and  aerial.  Higher  it  rose,  higher 
still,  ever  higher  until,  sinking  again,  it  en 
veloped  memory  in  it. 

A  fortnight  later  Welden  and  Sally,  at- 
tended  by  their  servants,  embarked  from 
Southampton  on  a  voyage  that  took  them 
first  to  India,  where  they  loitered,  then  to 
Hong  Kong,  where  they  were  married  and 
finally  to  White  Peacocks. 

There  the  journey  ended.  There,  for  one 
of  them,  eternity  began. 


PART  III 
AFTERWARD 

I 
PERSPECTIVES 

"Well,  William,  how  are  you?  Is  Miss 
Barhyte  at  home?" 

"Yes,  sir,  Miss  Barhyte  has  just  come  in. 
I  hope  I  see  you  very  well,  sir.  It's  a  long 
time,  sir — " 

Taking  Welden's  hat  and  stick,  the  serv 
ant  showed  him  into  the  library,  which  ap 
parently,  was  unaltered.  The  cushions  on 
the  sofa  were  as  colourful  as  before.  Oppo 
site,  the  piano  stood,  and  from  the  walls  pow 
dered  heads  looked  down.  But,  from  the 
table,  the  Sicilians  had  gone.  In  place  of 
Greek  poetry  there  was  now  a  book  of 


222          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

French  verse.  Otherwise  the  room  was  quite 
as  it  had  been  the  year  previous  and,  apart 
from  a  black  band  on  the  sleeve  of  his  grey 
coat,  Welden  himself  was  unchanged.  There 
was  the  same  smile  in  his  eyes,  the  same  glint 
in  his  hair,  the  same  appearance  of  supple 
ness  and  strength. 

He  had  opened  the  book  and  was  loitering 
in  its  languors  when  William  reappeared. 

"I  am  sorry,  sir.  I  made  a  mistake.  Miss 
Barhyte  is  not  at  home." 

The  mistake  must  have  been  anticipated. 
Welden  manifested  no  surprise. 

"Is  the  general  in?"  he  asked,  his  eyes  still 
on  the  book. 

"No,  sir.  The  general  is  not  at  home 
either." 

But  now  Welden  put  the  book  aside  and 
nodded. 

"Give  him  my  compliments  and  say  that 
I  will  wait  on  him  at  nine  to-night.  How  is 
he?" 


PERSPECTIVES  223 

"Pretty  well,  sir."  The  man  moved  out 
through  the  reception  room  to  the  marble 
of  the  hall,  where  he  handed  Welden  his  hat 
and  stick.  "That  was  a  nasty  accident  he 
had  last  summer.  He  limps  a  little  still. 
Yes,  sir." 

Opening  the  door,  he  held  it  open  until 
Welden  reached  the  street. 

Welden  sauntered  on.  Five  days  previous 
he  had  left  Santa  Barbara.  It  was  but  an 
hour  or  two  before  that  he  had  reached  New 
York.  In  his  head  he  could  still  feel  the  mo 
tion  of  the  cars.  That  would  pass,  he  told 
himself,  as  all  things  do.  It  would  pass,  as 
would  also  pass  a  girl's  disinclination  to  be 
at  home. 

He  sauntered  on,  turned  into  Fifth  ave 
nue,  and  sauntered  up.  At  once,  a  man  whom 
he  knew  stopped  him,  buttonholed,  ques 
tioned,  platitudinised.  From  passing  traps 
and  motors,  women  bowed,  two  other  men 
joined  him  and,  at  the  curb,  a  withered  crea- 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

ture  tossed  from  a  barrel-organ  a  strain  of 
Italian  love. 

The  men  annoyed  him.  It  wearied  him 
to  talk  about  what  had  happened.  It  wear 
ied  him  as  much  to  be  told  about  stocks.  Pre 
texting  a  pretext  he  hailed  a  hansom  and 
sailed  away. 

Presently,  at  the  Plaza,  where  he  had  put 
up,  it  was  comforting  to  find  that  his  lug 
gage  had  arrived.  After  the  philistinism  of 
the  West,  it  was  agreeable  to  be  lodged  in 
an  artistic  inn.  After  the  horrors  of  a  trans 
continental  trip,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  dress 
at  ease.  After  the  convict  fare  of  the  Lim 
ited,  food  properly  served  was  a  relief.  Af 
ter  a  tragedy,  a  change  of  air  is  good  for  the 
nerves. 

Welden,  as  he  sat  at  table  that  evening, 
his  recent  mourning  indicated  in  his  shirt  by 
two  small  black  studs,  considered  momen 
tarily  these  minor  gifts  of  the  minor  gods. 
But  he  had  work  ahead  of  him  and,  at  five 


PERSPECTIVES  225 

minutes  to  nine,  hailing  a  hansom,  he  sailed 
back  to  Madison  avenue. 

At  a  door  there,  as  he  rang,  a  melody  of 
Beethoven's  which  was  being  played  within, 
ceased  abruptly.  The  door  opened  and  Wil 
liam,  after  taking  his  hat  and  coat,  showed 
him  into  the  dining-room  where,  before  a 
wide  table,  the  general  sat,  looking,  as  per 
haps  a  general  should,  very  fierce. 

"William,"  he  ordered,  "close  the  door  be 
hind  you." 

Then,  rising,  he  turned  at  Welden. 

"Had  you  left  your  address  this  after 
noon,  I  would  have  warned  you  not  to  call 
here.  Your  conduct  has  been  dastardly. 
Dastardly!  God  bless  my  soul,  there  is  no 
other  word  for  it." 

He  paused,  removed  his  glasses  and  shook 
them. 

"After  an  accident  which  I  experienced 
and  Maud  had  joined  me  at  Frascati's,  you 
picked  a  quarrel  with  Malakoff ,  induced  the 


226          DAUGHTERS  OF.  THE  RICH 

duchess  to  obtain  a  divorce  and  married  the 
lady,  married  her,  God  bless  my  soul,  when 
you  were  engaged  to  my  daughter  and  to 
day,  your  wife  barely  cold  in  her  grave,  you 
have  the  impudence  to  come  here.  Damn 
me,  sir,  if  I  had  acted  as  you  have  I  would 
have  come  expecting  the  cowhide." 

As  the  tirade  proceeded  the  general's  voice 
mounted  to  the  diapason  of  a  roar.  At  its 
conclusion  he  stamped  a  foot. 

"Yes,  damn  me,  the  cowhide." 

Immediately,  but  without  heat,  Welden 
took  it  up. 

"From  no  other  man  living  would  I  en 
dure  for  an  instant  that  expression,  nor  yet 
the  one  which  preceded  it.  But  you  are 
right,  right,  that  is,  from  your  point  of  view. 
It  would  be  dastardly,  and  it  would  be  the 
cowhide  I  should  expect,  if  I  had  acted  as 
you  say  I  have,  intentionally." 

"Intentionally,"  the  general  shouted. 
"Intentionally—" 


PERSPECTIVES  227 

He  would  have  run  on  but  Welden  cut  in. 

"When  your  daughter  left  Deauville  I 
was  on  my  way  to  Paris.  She  wrote  me  of 
your  accident,  telling  me  she  was  going  to 
you  at  once,  and  asking  me  to  join  you  both 
at  Frascati's— " 

"Damn  me,  sir,  this  is  ancient  history." 

Welden  nodded.  "Yes,  to  you  and  to 
your  daughter.  But  not  to  me.  The  letter 
which  your  daughter  wrote  at  Deauville  on 
the  morning  of  the  Fourth  of  July,  I  re 
ceived  less  than  a  fortnight  since  at  Santa 
Barbara." 

"Even  so  what  of  it?  They  were  not 
dumb  at  the  Malakoff  s,  I  suppose.  They 
all  knew  of  it.  Anyone  could  have  told 
you." 

"General,  not  only  no  one  told  me  that 
your  daughter  had  gone,  but  I  was  led  to  be 
lieve  that  she  was  still  there  and  did  not  wish 
to  see  me." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense!  Do  you  mean  to  say 


228          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

that  you  are  a  born  fool?  How  could  any 
one  gammon  you  with  such  rubbish?" 

There  are  explanations  which  explain 
nothing.  Unhesitatingly  Welden  advanced 
one. 

"For  the  very  reason  you  have  given.  Be 
cause  I  was  a  fool.  But  however  much  of  a 
fool  I  may  have  been  I  am  not  a  knave. 
Your  daughter  will  appreciate  that." 

General  Barhyte  reached  forward  and 
touched  a  bell. 

"Never,"  he  answered.  "I  shall  not  allow 
you  to  see  her  and  even  if  I  did,  she  would 
refuse  to  do  so." 

The  servant  entered. 

"William,  the  door  for  this  gentleman." 

He  turned  his  back,  took  up  an  evening 
paper  and  sat  down.  To  him  Welden  had 
apparently  ceased  to  exist. 

But  Welden  was  thoroughly  alive.  Pre 
ceded  by  William,  he  passed  into  the  draw 
ing  room  and  on  to  the  hall.  There,  after 


PERSPECTIVES  229 

getting  his  hat  and  coat,  instead  of  going 
out,  he  turned  into  the  reception  room  and 
went  through  it  to  the  library  beyond. 

At  the  piano,  a  sheet  of  music  before  her, 
was  a  girl  who,  as  he  entered,  turned  slowly 
and  slowly  arose. 

Welden,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  his  coat  on 
his  arm,  looked  at  her.  Unlike  the  room,  she 
had  altered.  The  allurement  of  her  face,  the 
caress  which  she  had  exhaled,  the  charm  of 
manner  which  always  she  had  conveyed, 
these  emanations  were  absent.  In  place  of 
allurement  was  blankness ;  in  lieu  of  the  ca 
ress  was  rigidity;  instead  of  the  charm,  a 
chill.  In  her  eyes  and  about  her  mouth  was 
an  expression  of  distant  inquiry,  an  air  of 
saying:  Who  are  you  and  what  do  you 
want? 

Welden,  prepared  for  the  situation,  began 
methodically  at  its  demolition. 

"Maud,  there  has  been  that  between  us 
which  I  know  you  will  come  to  believe  justi- 


230          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

fies  me  in  disregarding  any  instructions  you 
may  have  given,  your  father's  orders  as  well. 
When  I  returned  the  sapphire— 

Insecure  in  her  intrenchments  the  girl  let 
fire.  "It  was  your  right  to  do  so.  It  was 
a  right  which  I  had  given  you  and  expressly 
stipulated  that  you  should  use.  In  return 
ing  it  you  said  everything  there  was  to  be 
said.  There  can  be  nothing  to  add  to 
it." 

"When  I  returned  the  sapphire,"  Welden 
\continued,  "it  was  because  I  thought  you 
wished  it." 

"You  may  or  may  not  have  been  mistaken, 
but  you  cannot  possibly  have  been  as  mis 
taken  in  me  as  I  have  been  in  you." 

"When  I  returned  the  sapphire,"  Welden 
persisted,  "it  was  because  I  believed  I  had 
seen  you  in  Malakoff's  arms." 

For  a  second,  with  diligent  disdain,  the 
girl  considered  him.  Then  at  once,  after  the 
fashion  which  royalty  has  devised  to  signify 


PERSPECTIVES  231 

that  a  conversation  is  at  an  end,  she  moved 
back. 

Welden  had  been  prepared  for  that  also. 

"Do  you  recall  our  last  night  together?" 

At  the  memory  evoked,  the  girl  coloured 
and  the  disdain  mounting  with  the  flush,  in 
creased,  accentuated  by  the  wantonness  of 
the  question. 

"Forgive  me  for  referring  to  it,"  Welden 
added.  "But  that  night  when  I  entered  your 
room,  the  disposition  of  it  was  such  that  I 
saw  at  first  but  your  head.  The  next  night 
I  saw  you  as  before,  with  this  difference 
however,  Malakoff  was  with  you — with  you 
I  say,  for  it  was  but  recently  I  learned  that 
that  night  you  were  at  Frascati's  and  that 
your  room  was  occupied  by  a  Mme.  Oppen- 
sheim,  a  person  whom  I  did  not  know  ex 
isted." 

On  the  music  stool  behind  her  the  girl  sank 
down.  The  flush  had  gone  from  her  face  but 
the  disdain  remained. 


232  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Do  you  know  of  her?"    Welden  asked. 

Maud,  without  unbending,  bent  a  little; 
"She  reached  the  villa  as  I  was  leaving  it." 

"Then  you  are  aware  of  the  resemblance 
between  you.  Her  hair  is  precisely  the  col 
our  of  yours.  Now  do  me  this  favour;  put 
yourself  in  my  place.  Had  you  seen  me  as 
I  thought  I  saw  you,  would  you  not  have 
acted  as  I  did?" 

The  girl  straightened  herself.  "No,"  she 
answered  shortly. 

"Do  you  mean  that  it  would  not  have  af 
fected  your  relations  with  me?" 

"I  mean  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"Without  indiscretion,  may  I  ask  then 
what  you  do  mean?" 

"Because  I  happened  to  fancy  that  you 
were  volage,  I  myself  would  not  have  be 


come  so." 


"Forgive  me,  Maud,  I  do  not  quite  follow 

you." 

"Nor  can  I  allow  you,  nor  do  I  wish  to. 


PERSPECTIVES  233 

Admitting  your  delusion,  one  by  the  way 
which  must  have  been  almost  self-evident, 
the  slightest  effort  on  your  part  would  have 
corrected  it." 

"Maud,  believe  me,  I  had  no  oppor 
tunity." 

"I  do  believe  you,  your  opportunity  lay 
elsewhere." 

"No,"  Welden  protested,  "it  did  not. 
Moreover,  the  opportunity  to  which  you  re 
fer  came  months  later,  and  though  utilised 
then,  it  was  only  for  the  wretchedest  ancl 
therefore  the  most  human  of  reasons,  in  or 
der  that  I  might  at  least  be  revenged." 

"On  Malakoff  ?"  the  girl  tauntingly  threw 
at  him. 

"Damn  me,  sir,"  some  one  was  angrily 
calling,  "when  I  instructed  my  servant  to 
show  you  the  door — " 

Welden  turned.  Before  him  the  general 
stood.  Immediately  Maud  interposed  her 
self  between  them. 


234          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Father,"  she  said,  pushing  him  as  she 
spoke,  toward  the  adjoining  room,  "go  in 
there,  I  must  speak  to  you." 

"You  told  me,"  the  old  man  remonstrated, 
trying  vainly  to  resist.  "You  told  me — " 

"I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it,"  Maud,  pushing 
still,  replied.  "But  I  told  you  also  never  to 
believe  a  word  a  woman  said." 

The  door  closed  suddenly.  Welden'could 
at  last  put  down  his  hat  and  coat.  He  had 
not,  he  knew,  demolished  all  the  intrench- 
ments,  but  in  view  of  the  girl's  defence  of 
him,  he  f  elfthat  he  had  sapped  their  base. 

He  was  quite  in  error.  None  the  less,  in 
a  few  moments,  when  Maud-issued  unaccom 
panied  from  the  conflict  in  the  outer  room, 
her  parliamentaries  there  may  have  suggest 
ed  a  temporary  truce.  She  stopped  at  the 
table,  took  up  the  book  of  verse,  looked  at 
it,  replaced  it  and  with  tolerable  irrelevance 
remarked : 

"That    was   very  terrible    about   Sally. 


PERSPECTIVES  235 

Have    you    any    suspicion    who    did    it?" 

"No,"  Welden  answered.  "None  what 
ever." 

"I  ought,  I  suppose,  to  condole  with  you, 
but  I  cannot.  Neither  of  you  I  think  be 
haved  very  well.  She  knew  about  Mme.  Op- 
pensheim  even  if,  as  you  say,  you  did  not.  It 
was  because  of  her  that  she  got  the  decree. 
Everybody  knew  that.  It  was  not  in  the 
papers,  but  it  was  common  talk.  Were  you 
deaf  at  the  time?" 

"Partially,"  Welden  replied.  "At  Chan- 
tilly  I  made  rather  a  mess  of  it." 

Of  that  mess  the  girl  had  been  informed. 
At  the  time  and  since  she  had  thought  it  not 
unmerited.  What  she  did  not  know  and 
what  she  never  learned  was  the  fact  that  the 
mess  was  intentional.  For  there  are  some 
things  that  some  men  do  not  talk  about. 
Even  otherwise,  there  are  times  and  seasons 
when  any  compliment,  however  unique,  falls 
flat. 


236          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Afterward,"  Welden  resumed,  "it  was 
quite  a  bit  before  I  was  about." 

"But  when  you  were,  did  you  not  hear?" 

"When  I  was,  Sally  told  me  that  it  was 
you  who  were  the  co." 

Maud  lifted  her  hands.  "She  told  you 
that!  She  told  you  that  I  was  the  co-re 
spondent!" 

"In  so  many  words." 

"When  did  you  learn  that  I  was  not?" 

"The  other  day  at  Santa  Barbara.  It 
came  about  rather  oddly.  We  were  on  the 
lawn,  the  wind  was  blowing,  it  disarranged 
her  hair.  Her  hair,  if  you  will  notice.  She 
wanted  a  barrette.  There  was  no  one  within 
call.  She  asked  me  to  get  it.  It  was  in  some 
case,  in  some  bag.  She  told  me  where  and 
where  the  keys  were.  She  was  very  explicit 
about  it  all.  But  I  misunderstood.  I  opened 
the  wrong  bag  or  the  wrong  box.  In  it  I 
found  a  letter  addressed  to  me.  I  know  it 
by  heart.  'July  the  Fourth,  Villa  Portu- 


PERSPECTIVES  237 

gaise.  Dearest:  They  have  just  wired  me 
from  Frascati's  that  my  father  has  been 
injured.  I  am  going  over  on  the  noon 
boat.  Join  me  there  to-morrow.  Mille 
baisers,  M.'  " 

"She  had  concealed  it!" 

"Evidently." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

Welden  made  a  gesture.  At  the  time 
when  he  found  the  letter  his  mind  had  shot 
backward.  Facts  and  incidents  trivial  in 
themselves  and  long  since  forgotten,  mount 
ed  from  those  cellars  of  memory  where  what 
ever  we  do  or  say  or  see  is  noted,  registered, 
catalogued  and  preserved.  In  a  sort  of  ret 
rograde  vision  the  madness  of  a  night  re 
turned.  He  beheld  the  silent  villa  and  Sally, 
her  hand  on  his  arm,  saying:  "Don't."  He 
recalled  the  singularity  of  her  attitude;  the 
avid  movement  with  which,  when  in  the  hall 
below,  she  had  taken  and  concealed  the  note ; 
her  subsequent  eagerness  to  have  him  fight; 


238          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

her  stupid  insistence  that  he  should  tell  no 
one  why ;  her  speeches  and  answers  at  Chan- 
tilly:  and  suddenly  a  curtain  rose.  He  saw, 
if  not  the  truth,  at  least  the  lie. 

"What  did  you  do?"    Maud  repeated. 

"I  went  to  her  and  asked  whom  Malakoff 
had  been  entertaining  that  evening.  It  was 
a  little  before  I  could  get  her  to  admit  that 
it  was  not  you.  Finally  she  acknowledged 
that  it  was  Mme.  Oppensheim." 

Again  Maud  lifted  her  hands.  "It  is  in 
credible!" 

"Yes,  particularly  as  from  the  start  she 
quite  played  on  my  mistake,  at  first,  I  sup 
pose,  in  order  to  have  me  kill  Malakoff  and 
later  on,  perhaps,  because  she  felt  compro 
mised  by  the  duel." 

Maud  considered  these  premises  and  then 
supplied  the  deduction. 

"That  is  why  she  asked  you  to  marry  her." 

"I  did  not  say  that." 

"No,  men  never  do  say  such  things  but 


PERSPECTIVES  239 

sometimes  women  infer  them.  How  long 
afterward  did  she  die?" 

"The  same  night,  or  rather  the  next  morn 
ing." 

Maud  considered  that  also,  but  more 
longly. 

"Don't  you  see,"  she  said  at  last,  "were 
these  things  known,  you  would  be  suspected, 
arrested  perhaps?" 

"Naturally.  If  ever  a  man  had  a  motive 
I  had  one.  On  the  night  when  I  went  to  the 
room  which  you  had  occupied  and  saw  what 
I  took  to  be  you,  Sally  was  at  my  elbow.  She 
had  come  to  surprise  Malakoff ,  and  finding 
me  there  and  divining  my  error,  took  advan 
tage  of  us  both.  I  am  sorry  now  for  Mala 
koff.  I  intended  to  kill  him.  He  knew  it, 
knew  the  reason,  knew  that  it  was  all  a  mis 
take.  But,  bounder  that  he  is,  he  could  not 
like  an  ordinary  cad  come  to  me  with  an  ex 
planation." 

"No,"  said  Maud.     "Men  never  explain 


240          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

and  women  always  do.     None  the  less— 

"None  the  less,"  Welden  ran  on,  "though 
I  can  be  sorry  for  him,  I  cannot  be  for  Sally. 
What  happened  to  her  was  the  judgment  of 
God." 

That  verdict  Maud  examined  and  at  once 
indorsed. 

"Yes,  for  with  a  word  she  could  have  set 
you  straight." 

Welden  nodded.  "It  has  been  a  tragedy 
of  errors.  Yet,  of  course,  if  the  police  at 
Santa  Barbara  had  so  much  as  an  inkling 
of  it,  I  would  be  in  jail  there  now.  They 
suspect  me  as  it  is,  I  think." 

"But  I  read  that  you  offered  a  reward." 

"Yes,  and  it  was  then  I  felt  that  I  was 
suspected." 

Maud  looked  that  over  also,  but  without 
seeming  to  get  the  point  of  it. 

"Surely  they  could  not  fancy  that  you 
would  offer  a  reward  for  your  own  convic 
tion?" 


PERSPECTIVES 

"No,  but  they  could  readily  fancy  that  I 
offered  it  to  divert  suspicion,  for  that  is  pre 
cisely  what  a  bungler  would  have  done." 
Welden  paused.     Presently  he  added: 
"I  did  not  realise  that  until  afterward." 
At  this,  Maud,  who  had  remained  at  the 
table,  crossed  the  room  and  seated  herself 
on  the  sofa.    Welden  took  a  seat  beside  her. 
"What  do  you  propose  to  do  now?"    She 
asked. 

"Beg  you  to  marry  me." 
The  girl  shook  her  head.    "You  need  not. 
I  have  no  intention  of  it." 

"For  the  same  reason  as  before?" 
"Partly.    But  for  others  also." 
It  was  now  Welden's  turn  to  consider 
things.    While  he  was  at  it,  she  helped  him. 
"It  is  not  that  I  cannot  forgive  you,"  she 
explained.     "But  I  have  so  long  regarded 
you  as  unforgivable  that  I  cannot  imme 
diately  forget.     Besides,   that  you   should 
have  suspected  me  is  one  thing,  but  that  you 


242  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

should  have  consoled  yourself  is  quite  an 
other." 

"Consoled!"  retorted  Welden.  "The  word 
does  not 'fit.  I  had  no  relations  with  Sally." 

Maud  turned  and  looked  at  him.  She  had 
never  known  him  to  lie,  but  she  was  not  cred 
ulous  and  Sally,  whatever  her  demonism, 
had  been'a  very  pretty  woman. 

"That's  as  may  be,"  she  answered.  "The 
point  is  you  hurt  me  and  meant  to.  I  think 
I  could  not  have  done  that  to  you." 

For  a  second  she  hesitated,  her  hands  ly 
ing  interclasped  in  her  lap.  She  opened 
them  and  slowly  added: 

"But  I  am  quite  sure  I  could  have  done 
a  little  harm  to  her." 

"The  little  harm  has  been  done,"  Welden 
remarked. 

But  that  Maud  could  not  have  found  her 
self  quite  able  to  concede. 

"By  another,"  she  answered,  "and  incom 
pletely." 


PERSPECTIVES  243 

In  what  manner  the  harm  could  have  been 
completer  she  did  not  say,  nor  did  Welden 
ask,  but  he  marvelled  at  the  girl,  who,  in 
spite  of  the  character  of  their  previous  inti 
macy,  now,  for  the  first  time,  revealed  to 
him  her  naked  soul. 

She  stood  up,  went  to  the  piano  and  with 
one  hand  struck  the  keys  into  notes  violent 
and  discordant. 

Then,  as  she  turned,  displaying  the  oval 
of  her  perfect  face,  and  stood  there,  elabor 
ately  gowned,  her  head  erect,  she  might  per 
haps,  to  any  other,  have  presented  but  a 
genre  picture  of  a  society  girl,  ultra  smart. 
To  Welden  she  was  something  else,  some 
thing  higher  or  it  may  be,  lower;  a  being  in 
tensely  human,  vibrant  with  elemental  pas 
sion. 

"She  was  made  for  me,"  he  told  himself, 
and  crossing  the  room,  he  looked  her  in  the 
eyes. 

But  however  vibrant  the  girl  may  have 


244          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

been,  however  primitive  also,  she  was  not  in 
a  mood  for  caresses.  Dumbly  against  him 
she  felt  the  revolt  which  women  have  for  the 
man  who  comes  to  them  from  the  arms  of 
another.  Those  arms  were  lifeless  now  and 
such  enfoldings  as  they  had  given  perhaps 
were  scant,  but  some  at  least  there  had  been, 
and  at  the  thought  of  them  she  recoiled  in 
stinctively. 

"No,"  she  said  in  answer  to  that  look. 
"Not  now,  perhaps  never.  I  cannot  tell. 
Do  not  try  to  ask  me." 

"Good  night,"  she  added  after  a  moment, 
when  Welden,  who  knew  better  than  to  urge 
against  her  will,  had  taken  up  his  hat  and 
coat. 


II 

THE  BENEDICTION 

The  fatigues  compressed  in  a  journey 
across  the  continent  are  of  a  completeness 
that  satiates  the  sturdiest.  On  leaving  Mad 
ison  avenue,  Welden  slept  thirteen  hours, 
awoke,  tubbed,  dressed,  drank  some  coffee, 
read  a  telegram,  also  a  newspaper  and,  other 
details  terminated,  drove  to  the  Grand  Cen 
tral  where  he  arranged  to  repeat  the  trip. 

The  telegram,  a  night  message  from  San 
ta  Barbara,  marked  Collect  and  signed 
Wicks,  was  as  follows: 

Perkins  Indicted  on  evidence  personalty  obtained. 
Rings  recovered,  trial  to-morrow.  I  claim  rewards. 

"The  imbecile,"  Welden  muttered  as  the 

message  fell  from  him. 

But  the  purport  of  it  he  found  repeated 
in  a  morning  paper,  strung  out  there  with 


246          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

sensational  details,  stories  of  full  confession, 
others  of  priceless  jewels — the  property  of 
the  murdered  woman  with  whom  Welden 
had  eloped  and  then  been  shot  by  the  out 
raged  husband — the  usual  farrago  of  fiction, 
garnished  in  this  instance  with  a  picture  of 
White  Peacocks  which  resembled  the  scene 
of  the  crime  about  as  closely  as  it  did  the 
Plaza. 

Beneath  the  ribbon  of  rubbish  there  was 
none  the  less  a  fact.  There  was  also  a  pos 
sibility.  There  had  been  an  indictment,  con 
viction  might  follow. 

The  rooms  which  Welden  occupied  gave 
on  Central  Park.  For  a  moment,  from  a 
window,  he  stood  looking  at  the  rain  of  sun 
shine,  the  leisurely  motors,  the  gingerly  step 
ping  horses,  the  parade  of  nurses  out  with 
their  charges  for  the  midday  air.  Yet,  though 
he  looked,  he  did  not  see,  or  rather  it  was  not 
the  Park  that  he  saw,  but  Santa  Barbara 
and  the  obligation  to  return  there. 


THE    BENEDICTION  247 

The  prospect  was  not  agreeable.  He  had, 
however,  contemplated  it  before.  Now,  with 
no  thought  of  shirking,  he  .contemplated  it 
again.  Then,  the  letter  written,  other  de 
tails  terminated,  he  went  down  Madison 
avenue  for  a  word  with  Maud. 

But  the  girl  was  not  at  home.  William 
assured  him  of  that,  assured  him  that  this 
time  there  was  no  mistake,  that  she  was  real 
ly  out,  gone  but  a  little  before  in  her 
brougham. 

Welden  took  from  a  pocket  the  letter 
which  he  had  written. 

"Here  is  a  note  for  Miss  Barhyte.  Give 
it  to  her  yourself  and  say  that  it  is  not  to  be 
opened  until  she  hears  from  me.  I  leave 
town  to-day  and  I  will  wire  shortly,  but  the 
letter  is  not  to  be  opened  until  then.  Do  you 
understand?  You  do?  You  are  sure  you 
do?  The  letter  is  not  to  be  opened  until  I 
wire.  Very  good.  Here  is  something  for 
you." 


248  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Welden.    Thank  you." 

The  man  bowed  Welden  out,  after  which 
he  put  the  letter  on  the  hall  table  where,  later 
that  afternoon,  Maud  letting  herself  in  with 
a  latch-key  as  was  her  custom,  found  and 
read  it. 

Welden  then  was  on  his  way  to  Chicago. 
The  press  there  supplied  him  with  fresh 
news  from  Santa  Barbara,  at  Omaha  there 
was  more.  But  thereon,  over  the  plains  and 
through  the  hamlets  which  in  a  sort  of  hor 
rible  coquetry  vie  in  hideousness  with  each 
other,  there  was  a  silence  that  continued 
until  Ogden  was  reached. 

Ogden  too  has  its  coquetries.  But  the 
news  of  the  day  may  be  had  there.  There 
is  also  a  stop. 

The  stop  is  brief,  yet  it  sufficed  for  Wel 
den.  He  wired  to  Maud,  got  his  trunks  from 
the  baggage  car,  his  bags  from  the  Pullman 
and  boarded  a  returning  train. 

In  a  Salt  Lake  sheet  he  had  read  that,  the 


THE    BENEDICTION  249 

prosecution  collapsing,  Perkins  had  been  re 
leased.  It  was  then  that  he  wired.  The  wire 
was  a  request  that  his  letter  should  not  be 
opened.  Four  days  later  he  was  in  New 
York. 

On  the  evening  of  that  fourth  day,  a  bit 
fatigued,  the  motion  of  the  train  actively 
continuing  in  his  head,  but  in  a  white  tie,  a 
white  waistcoat — between  which  two  small 
black  studs  served  to  indicate  his  recent 
mourning — he  was  again  in  Madison  ave 
nue,  this  time  in  the  parlour,  as  the  local 
drawing-room  is  sometimes  called  and  on 
this  occasion  very  properly,  for  a  parlour  or 
parloir  is  a  talking  place  and  Welden  found 
himself  called  upon  to  say  more  than  he  had 
expected,  and  on  a  subject  at  that  concerning 
which  he  had  not  intended  to  talk  at  all. 

Maud  was  not  present  when  he  entered 
and  he  looked  at  the  faded  frescoes  with  a 
yawn.  In  a  moment  however,  from  the  din 
ing-room  beyond,  the  girl  appeared. 


250          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

Her  neck  and  arms  were  bare.  Her  gown 
was  white,  striated  with  violet.  As  she  en 
tered  she  stooped  to  arrange  or  to  release  a 
fold.  The  attitude,  but  momentarily  main 
tained,  was  so  graceful  that  Welden  forgot 
his  fatigue.  Then,  as  she  straightened  and 
approached,  one  hand  just  upholding  a  hem, 
the  picture  she  presented  indemnified  him 
for  the  little  horrors  of  the  trip. 

The  week  previous  he  saw  that  she  had 
altered.  Now  he  realised  that  she  had 
changed  again.  It  was  as  though  when 
bending  at  the  door,  her  whole  manner  had 
unbent. 

She  took  his  hand.  "Dearest,  another 
would  say  that  what  you  went  from  here  to 
do  was  noble.  I  do  not.  It  was  You." 

Passably  perplexed,  Welden  stared.  In 
the  stare  the  perplexity  was  reflected. 

The  girl  smiled.  Her  hand  still  in  his, 
she  led  him  to  the  S  in  upholstery,  in  one  of 
the  curves  of  which  she  seated  herself  while 


THE    BENEDICTION  251 

he,  guided  by  her,  seated  himself  in  the 
other. 

"Dearest,  will  you  promise  me  some 
thing?" 

Welden  nodded. 

"Will  you  promise  not  to  he  annoyed?" 

Welden  nodded  again. 

"I  must  tell  you,  then,  that  I  have  read 
your  letter." 

Vexation  lifted  Welden  visibly  like  a 
lash.  He  dropped  the  hand  he  held,  sprang 
from  the  seat  and  went  to  the  window. 
On  reaching  it  he  turned.  Maud  was  look 
ing  at  him. 

"Your  promise!" 

Welden  ran  his  long,  thin  fingers  through 
his  bright  thick  hair. 

"Your  promise!" 

"But,  Maud,  I  am  not  annoyed.  Annoy 
ance  is  not  the  term.  If  anything,  I  am 
alarmed." 

At  that  the  girl  also  left  her  seat.    Ad- 


252  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

vancing  to  where  he  stood  she  said  in  his 
face:  "It  is  the  first  time  then  in  all  your 
life." 

Welden,  moving  uneasily,  turned  away. 

"Dearest,  can  you  not  trust  me?  Even  if 
I  had  not  read  the  letter,  sooner  or  later  I 
would  have  known." 

With  the  goaded  action  of  a  bull  before 
the  matador,  Welden  tossed  his  head. 

"No,  never,  unless — "  He  stopped, 
looked  at  her,  weighed  her.  "Unless  matters 
had  gone  the  other  way.  It  was  only  in 
provision  of  the  contingency  that  I  wrote 
you  and  when  I  did,  I  expressly  instructed 
William  that  you  were  not  to  read  the  letter 
until  you  heard  from  me  again." 

"Yes,  so  he  told  me — after  I  had  read  it. 
I  am  not  sorry,  nor  should  you  be.  No 
earthly  thing  could  have  brought  us  nearer. 
Dearest,  do  you  not  see  that  between  us  now 
it  is  for  always?" 

"You  mean  that?" 


THE    BENEDICTION  253 

"Mean  it !  If  you  wish,  I  will  go  with  you 
to-night.  The  world  will  say  that  I  am  your 
mistress,  but  I  would  rather  be  that  than 
empress  to  an  emperor." 

"Dona  Sol!"  Welden,  with  assumed  light 
ness,  threw  out. 

"Dona  Sol,  yes,  if  you  like,  and  Heloise 
also,  for  both  said  it.  With  them,  though,  it 
wras  heroics;  with  me  it  is  the  truth." 

Welden  took  her  hands  in  his.  "Suppos 
ing  I  put  you  to  the  test?" 

"Give  me  only  time  to  get  a  cloak,  and 
for  William  to  call  a  cab." 

"I  don't  mean  that.  I  mean  a  greater 
test." 

"Is  there  any?" 

Welden  nodded.    "Will  you  marry  me?" 

Maud  laughed  in  his  face.  "Do  you  call 
that  a  test?  Do  you?" 

Welden,  a  bit  relieved,  laughed  also. 

"Well,  you  see,"  he  said,  "heretofore  it 
has  rather  seemed  one.  I  give  you  my  word 


DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

I  had  no  idea  but  that  you  would  refuse  me." 

Maud  turned,  surveying  the  room.  Then, 
assured  that  they  were  quite  alone,  she  dis 
engaged  her  hands,  put  them  on  his  shoul 
ders  and  raising  herself,  whispered: 

"What  girl  would  refuse  a  man  who  loved 
her  enough  to  kill  another  woman  for  her? 
Dearest,  I  adore  you." 

Welden  drew  her  to  him.  Presently,  as 
he  held  her  in  his  arms,  he  said:  "I  hope 
you  destroyed  that  agreeable  information?" 

With  a  smile  the  girl  freed  herself. 

"Completely,"  she  answered. 

Then  taking  him  again  by  the  hand  she 
led  him  back  to  where  they  had  been  seated. 

There,  after  a  moment,  she  added:  "Dear 
est,  tell  me  about  it.  Did  Sally  know  before 
hand?" 

"Now,  Maud,"  he  protested,  "don't  be 
morbid." 

But  naively  this  girl  in  whom  there  was 
so  little  naivete  persisted. 


THE    BENEDICTION  255 

"Dearest,  tell  me  this;  was  it  because  of 
the  letter  you  killed  her?" 

"I  killed  her  for  what  she  killed  in  me, 
for  her  assassination  of  my  belief  in  you. 
That  was  more  to  me  than  life,  and  for  it  I 
took  hers." 

Maud  thought  it  over.  But  still  the  epi 
sode  of  the  letter  rankled. 

"What  did  she  do  when  she  found  you 
had  my  note?" 

"What  did  she  do?"  Welden  repeated, 
"Personally  she  did  nothing.  But  the  most 
curious  of  all  physical  phenomena  manifest 
ed  itself  in  her.  The  red  phantom  of  the 
human  conscience  appeared  in  her  face. 
She  flushed  with  a  flame  that  came  to  her 
from  hell." 

Maud  contemplated  the  picture.  It 
seemed  to  her  over  coloured.  With  a  ques 
tion  she  toned  it. 

"Don't  you  suppose  that  she  was  merely 
angry  at  herself  for  having  kept  the  note? 


256          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

I  cannot  conceive  what  folly  prompted  her 
to  do  so." 

"A  folly  that  is  common  enough,"  Wei- 
den  answered.  "Almost  all  criminals  leave 
or  preserve  some  evidence  of  their  guilt. 
There  is  an  uncontrollable  impulse  which 
compels  them." 

Maud  smiled.  "Thank  fortune,  that  im 
pulse  did  not  actuate  my  criminal.  Did  it, 
dearest?" 

"Oh,  but  it  did  though.  You  read  about 
the  jewels,  the  famous  jewels,  the  rings 
that  cost  ninety  thousand  and  which  an  im 
becile  out  there  discovered,  or  thought  he 
discovered,  in  Perkins'  possession?" 

"Yes,  but  it  appeared  that  they  were  imi 
tation  and  her  own.  The  papers  said  she 
had  a  receipt  from  a  Paris  manufacturer, 
made  out  to  her  in  her  name." 

"Precisely.  Sally's  stones  cost  more,  but 
nothing  like  what  I  represented.  I  know 
it  was  not  very  nice  of  me  to  have  exagger- 


THE    BENEDICTION  257 

ated  their  value  as  I  did,  but  I  had  to 
supply  the  police  with  a  motive.  Ca 
n'a  pas  fait  un  pli.  They  swallowed  it 
whole." 

Maud  laughed.  "That  was  very  clever  of 
you.  Where  were  they  at  the  time?" 

"The  rings?    In  my  pocket." 

Maud  laughed  again.  "Where  are  they 
now?" 

"Where  I  put  them,  neatly  done  up,  in  the 
coffin." 

"You  put  them  there!    But  why?" 

"Partly  from  that  uncontrollable  impulse, 
but  chiefly  in  provision  of  just  such  a  thing 
as  nearly  happened,  in  order  that  if  another 
were  convicted,  I  could  prove  that  I  was  the 


man." 


"And  if  Perkins  had  been  convicted  you 
would  have  done  so?" 

"Naturally.  It  would  have  been  the 
merest  duty." 

"Dearest,  do  you  wonder  that  I  love  you? 


258          DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH 

No.  I  was  right  from  the  first.  There  is 
none  but  you.  Tell  me — " 

But  whatever  the  girl's  question  may  have 
been,  it  was  not  asked  or  at  least  not  then. 
In  the  door  through  which  she  had  come,  the 
general  stood. 

"Father!"  she  called  in  her  clinging  voice. 
"We  are  engaged  again  and  we  are  to  be 
married  shortly." 

Furiously  the  old  gentleman  turned  on 
her. 

"In  all  my  life  I  have  never  heard  of  such 
indecency.  Yes,  damn  me,  indecency.  You 
were  engaged  to  that  man  before  and  he 
threw  you  over  to  marry  another  woman. 
The  day  you  leave  this  house  for  him,  you 
leave  it  forever.  You  are  of  age,  you  can 
do  as  you  like,  but  so  can  I,  and,  damn  me, 
I'll  disown  you." 

Cursing  and  fuming,  the  general  strode 
on. 

It  was  their  benediction.     They  knew  it, 


THE    BENEDICTION  259 

knew,  too,  that  it  was  deserved.  But  the 
ball  was  over,  the  nightmare  as  well.  Life 
larger,  though  more  lawful,  was  about  to  be 
gin.  Slowly  the  girl's  arms  went  about  her 
lover.  At  their  touch,  in  sudden  retrospect, 
he  saw  again  White  Peacocks  and  the  in 
augural  sky:  the  massacre  on  the  horizon, 
the  trooping  titans,  the  luminous  arc,  the 
flight  of  the  centaurs  and  the  mirage  of  the 
archipelagoes  of  love. 


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THE  SPIDER'S  WEB,  by  Reginald  Wright  Kauffman 

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The   duel  of  sex  is  here,     and  it  is  described  without  bias,  as  fear 
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There   have   been   few   stories   so   sweet,   so   moving,    so   tender,    so 
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Dealing   with    woman's    life    under    modern    conditions,    the    author 
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DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  RICH,  by  Edgar  Saltus 

A  story  of  great  strength  and  almost  photographic  intensity,  wise, 
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HAGAR  REVELLY,  by  Daniel  Carson  Goodman 

A    truthful    presentation    of    the    real    reasons    why    some    girls    go 
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UNCLOTHED,  by  Daniel  Carson  Goodman 

A  novel   for  the   woman  of  thirty,  this  book  is  an  honest  attempt 
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